Betty and the Ink Machine
by Singer of Time
Summary: Somewhere in the world, there is an old cartoon studio that has fallen onto a dark path, populated by monsters and living by the name of a false Creator. In the toon world, the characters of that studio are trapped, victims of lies and fated to decay. That is until a certain famous toonette decides to follow her curiosity...but what she finds is worse than expected.
1. Chapter 1

((AN: Eeeeyup, seems I've fallen hard down into another fandom. x3 I've been in it and loving it for a good while, only a matter of time before I started throwing out some fanfic ideas, I imagine.

So, many of you know that I'm an animation lover; and that includes old-school animation. That's what attracted me to Bendy and the Ink Machine, the only horror game to date that I've played through many times myself; I love the aesthetic behind it (heck, I love the aesthetic of the time period itself, what can I say?). One day at work my imagination was suddenly hitting me hard: what if a certain famous old-school toon were to stumble into the studio (or a version of it, at least)? I never thought I'd write a crossover, but this one was too much fun thinking up not to give it a try. x3

I've been watching a lot of old cartoons as of late, and even as a kid I've seen a lot of Betty Boop (so I'd hope I have her character down well here, and you'll see lots of references to the history of the Fleischer Studio toons). I've written a lot of serious fics, but I think it's about time I tested out my humor on a serious fic with a fair amount of the good ol' fashioned swing. x3

Enjoy, and if you guys like this little foray, I'll put up more chapters. I've got three written so far, and I _do_ know where I'm gonna go with this one, and it'll probably be somewhat short, so I'll be trying hard to finish it; again, if people would like to see where it goes. =)

Something to probably note beforehand, this won't be like reading a walkthrough of the game itself; the toon-world version of Joey Drew Studios is like a mirrored version with some changes. It affects the madness of the real-world studio and vice-versa, thus the toons themselves are involved, but not really the ink-monster people, with tiny exceptions.

Let's see how they get themselves out of this jam, shall we? x3))

* * *

Chapter 1

The Toon World, like any other world, has its dark corners that hide alongside the eternal light, energy, and happiness in which it was built. Many of them are acknowledged; after all, a good story has to have its unscrupulous side, and the toons know this in spades. Even _those_ dark spaces have its own silver linings and humor.

But there is a place that many of the residents are cautious to talk about; a sprawling underground, basically like the slums of the universe, known by many names: the Defunct, the Lost Place, the Land of the Forgotten, the Faded...where toons that have been forgotten, hadn't experienced laughter from the Real Side for so very long, lose their energy and their power and go to live out their eternal lives in solitude.

It isn't all dreary (and they certainly make sure it isn't); many toons are remembered again and revitalized. But, all do realize that someday it may be their fate to end up on that side of the proverbial tracks. And when they do, they just learn to make the best of it.

And then, for a _very_ unlucky few, whose names in the real world were ground into dust along with their creators over time...they are practically imprisoned there, never to know again the happiness and memories they brought to those that watched them work.

Even still, there are toons who just don't like to give up on them.

There was one who was somewhat familiar with the Defunct; she'd gone down there once before to rescue her oldest co-stars. And that's when she heard about the darkest corner, where true evil was said to reside, a haunted store of memories and regrets.

She'd been warned about it, of course. But, as was always true to her character, curiosity overruled her sense. Even more so, her desire to find the toons that she'd heard about in the good old days, if only in passing.

And, well...Betty Boop wouldn't be herself if she didn't at least take a peek.

"...Oh dear...what a dreary place..." Betty murmured to herself as she exited the taxi (who sped off like a racer once she paid the fare), and found herself facing the outside of a large, blocky building. It looked very nondescript and gray (to be expected in the Black n' White side of town), rather like it was placed there from the real world. It lay in a secluded, empty street with no other buildings, and so the quiet was already disconcerting. It wouldn't have been much to see, except for the giant sign on the front: Joey Drew Studios, a name accompanied by three stylized film reels, set up in a once-grandiose fashion...now rotting and pretty much about to fall off its base.

It was told that the building was connected to another small toon world...now since hidden away, like its residents.

The young (appearing) toon woman had a shiver crawl up her spine as she opened the creaky gate and approached the building, clutching her bag tighter as the familiar smell of ink filled the air, not even a moment before she reached the door. She knew that smell well; heck, she was made of it herself, as were many of her friends in the old days. But _this_ ink...it _almost_ had a feel to it like ink from the real world. Like the legendary inkwell used by her Uncle Max...but with something more. She couldn't quite describe it, but it made her wince a little.

She took a breath and looked the place over once more, her hands on her hips. "Well, I've been in _some_ situations before, but _this_ might just take th' cake. Me oh my...still, I _gotta_ at least see. I always wanted t' meet the Joey Drew toons...welp, here goes nothin'..."

With that, Betty took a hold of the door's handle and pushed it inward, stepping carefully through the threshold as the hinges creaked and echoed across the corridor.

The quiet of the inside was overtaken by the sound of old, creaking wood. Betty cautiously looked around as she closed the door behind her and stepped through a hall laden with several posters of old cartoons. Her hand would briefly touch over the paper, and she could practically feel its age. She glanced over each of them with interest, only referencing some of the main characters in the early days: Boris and Bendy. Both of whom she hoped to meet at some point in this venture, although for the moment, things looked very empty.

Once inside the main hall though, Betty couldn't help but notice the sound and sight of ink dripping from a few corners, as if a portion of the upstairs had been flooded with it. The whole of the building seemed to have a thrumming pulse, and curling about here and there were pipes that were just _streaming_ the blackened liquid like a life force.

"Oh dear...ink spills everywhere...I probably shouldn't've worn my ol' skirt..." she muttered and, with a little flick of her fingers as she pulled on the edge of the garment, extended it to transform into a pair of black dress pants instead, as well as taking a stylish gray coat out from behind her to put on. "Oh, that's much better. At least th' ink won't show on 'em. Now let's see..."

The toon woman kept walking along, curious as a kitten while observing the insides of what seemed like quite the extensive little cartoon studio. There were open cobweb-lined doors filled with shelves of reels and projectors, plenty more posters lining the wall...even animators' desks with lots of cute little pictures...none of which, sadly, moved. Betty was quite used to living in a world where everything had a dash of life. But there seemed to be none here, even a trickle.

"Helloooo!" she called out as she came to a bit of a crossroad. "Anyone home?"

Nothing answered but the creaking wood, the echo of her voice, and more droplets of ink. With a few frustrated _tsk_ sounds, she kept moving until she spied a very curious sign.

"The Ink Machine? Hm, now there's somethin' ta see..." she hummed, following the signs to what seemed like the studio's biggest attraction now. Carefully stepping over a dirty pipe and peering around the corner, though, Betty _certainly_ wasn't prepared for this thing.

It was a convoluted machination about as big as the room it was in, suspended by heavy iron chains and spewing ink from a pump into several large pipes that made up a sprawling underbelly to depths unknown. This thing was the heart of the place, the source of the pulse, and with each beat, more shudders crawled across her body. She forced herself to step away from it, clutching her bag close.

"Oohoohoo..." she shivered, "And here I thought I'd seen the strangest machines, but _that_...oh dear...I do hope I can find out what happened to the toons of this place. This whole thing needs an explanation!"

Taking her walk back to a bit of a trot, Betty wasted little time in searching the next rooms; only employee break areas and more storage closets to be found.

But every so often, she'd think that she'd hear something, or see it out of the corner of her eye: a movement, a figure, a shadow...a glimpse of someplace familiar and yet not...but it would always be gone when she turned.

"This really isn't funny," she said aloud, starting to grimace now with impatience as she pulled her coat tighter about herself. "I better find someone here with some answers, or I swear..."

And then, she had to stop cold as she peered around the darkest corner, gasping as she covered her open mouth.

Lying on a slanted slab like that of an operating table, arms and legs bound to it, was a toon...but one that looked for all the world lifeless, with "x"-shaped eyes to boot...and worse, a chest pried open to reveal an inky black hole. No doubt about it, the black and white canine-looking figure wearing naught but a pair of suspenders looked an awful lot like Boris the Wolf, from his posters.

Betty couldn't stop her shivering, her head shaking as she took a few steps toward the figure. "No...oh no...oh nononono...oh how _terrible_...who'd do this? And _how_? In all my days, I can't _imagine_..."

Quivering, she started to reach out to touch the wolf's gloved hand, just to see if it was even the tiniest bit responsive.

And before Betty could even get close, she heard him _groan_.

"EEK!" she squeaked, backing away several more feet, her back to a wall as the figure came to life (to an extent) and wiggled the fingers of his gloves, mouth open in an almost breathless voice.

"...Wh...Who...Who's...there?" Boris rasped. "S-some-one...p-please..."

Betty came out of her frozen posture slowly, blinking as she gulped loudly and took a few cautious steps forward. _A'course, he's a toon, they can't die...but he MUST be in a world a' hurt_. "H-hey there...can ya hear me?"

The wolf's ears turned to her voice, but he seemed to have trouble seeing her. "I-I...can...a bit. P-please...whoever...y'are...if y'can...help..."

She was almost instantly up at his side, laying a tentative but comforting hand on his wrist. "Yeah, 'course I'll help ya darlin'...what can I do?" she asked, briefly glancing around the room. The only things that she seemed to see were tools that wouldn't have been of _any_ help, and she _certainly_ wasn't going to grab the black-stained wrench on the nearby table.

Boris's fingers wiggled again, desperately now. "I-ink...just...need...ink..."

Betty nodded, but as she started to turn for the door, she paused. There was _plenty_ of ink around...but _how_ was she going to bring any back to him? It would take hours to find, let alone fill, any wells that would help _those_ wounds.

Then, she snapped her fingers as an idea came to her. "Oh, of _course_...so glad I brought this with me now..."

Boris could only hear what was going on, but even in his terribly-pained mind, he was curious to hear that she seemed to be rummaging through a bag for something big. And indeed, she was, pulling out a large and very special inkwell.

"This ink belonged to Uncle Max," she explained as she set it on the ground and began to fill a large fountain pen with it. "It should be _just_ the thing. Just hold on tight, deary, I'll getcha fixed up." _I hope_, she added on like a little prayer as the pen lightly tapped the edge of the well.

Boris could only nod weakly and cringe, bracing as he heard a lever pulled. Holding the fountain pen like a fire hose, Betty let loose the black concoction.

_SPLOOSH!_

It was just one big splatter, enough to cover the wolf in her creator's special ink that had brought life to her friends and herself...but as it covered his form and seemed to leave a shiny sheen, it thankfully looked to be doing the trick.

The ink then seemed to seep straight into the bound wolf, like he was a sponge soaking it up for dear life. When his face emerged, he took a deep, long gasp of breath, like he'd been waiting to do so for years. The last of the ink sealed his chest. Good as new, there he indeed was: Boris the Wolf, of Joey Drew Studios.

His eyes, no longer signifying that of a deathly toon, blinked open tiny pie-cut dots that instantly focused on his savior, who was putting the giant pen and inkwell back into a little handbag like it was nothing.

Betty gave him a smile as she looked back to his face. "Oh, there we go...you alright now?"

The wolf blinked a few more times to make sure that he was seeing what he was seeing...and then, he gave out a loud laugh. "I...I'm okay! I...I-I-I'm back! I...I can't feel no pain! You! Y...Y'saved me, oh, thank ya, thank ya so kindly...!"

Then, he paused and had to gape, realizing just who he saw in front of him. "Gee whiz, I know you! Yer Betty Boop, ain'tcha, or are my ol' eyes failin' me after so long?"

As always upon being recognized, Betty had to give a shy giggle and a wink. "That's me! Good ol' Betty Boop-oop-ee-doop, whoop!" she enthusiastically gave her spiel with a theatrical wave. "An' _you_ gotta be Boris...I've seen you from yer posters comin' in."

The wolf, almost oblivious to the fact that he was still bound to the table, shyly stuck out his tongue. "Eeyup, that's me alright! 'Course, I ain't no star like you...but gee, what in th' world are _you_ doin' _here?_" He gave a sad grimace and tilted his head. "Y'can't belong to th' Land o' th' Forgotten...you still got your toon...grabbin' anythin' superpower thing."

Betty giggled. "Hammer-space, they call it. Yeah, y'got me...well, I heard about this place, an' I had ta come see...after all, I never met _you_ guys, an' you were pretty famous for a while. But, uh...lookin' around now..." she gave another cautious glance with a roll of her eyes, considering the darkness in which they still resided, "I'm guessin' you've been through some hard times."

The wolf let out a breath that seemed like it wanted to turn into a laugh, and only became a harsh sigh. "Lady, y'don't know th' half of it..." His ears drooped. "This place...it's no place fer someone like _you_, or _anybody._ It's dangerous!"

"Oh yeah, I've been warned," she waved her hand, "An' yet, here I am! It's been scary so far, but I still wanna help you guys! Oh, dear me, I should prob'ly help ya outta that table..." she started mumbling as she unbuckled the straps. Boris watched with perked ears and eager twitches of his gloved fingers until he could move his arms and legs again. When he was finally all free, he leaped from the table and landed with a bit of a wobble; he felt it would take time to get used to walking, but at least...at least he was out.

There was a quiet moment when he just looked at his arms and legs, moving and shaking his feet one by one, before getting a big grin on his face and turning to the other toon with tears welling up in his eyes. "Can't believe it...'m actually okay...you're a real swell gal, Miss Boop!" he cried and lifted her up for a giant bear hug and spun her around, his laughter almost unending. "_Real_ swell, how c'n I ever repay ya?"

"Ohoho my!" Betty giggled with surprise and patted him on the head. Now that she got a good look at the wolf, he was fairly tall and lanky; with the dark spots on his cheeks, he almost reminded her of Koko the Clown, with a dash of Goofy in there too. "Well I'm only happy t' oblige, Mr. Wolf; an' you can just call me Betty. But now, won'tcha tell me exactly what _happened_ to this place?"

Boris let out one more happy sigh and deflated a little, politely letting the lady down again. "_You _just call me Boris. An' well...I could, but...it's a long 'n sad story," he admitted, rubbing his arm.

"Aw...well, I got time! Like I said, I'm here ta help ya! Please tell me what happened...and while we're at it, we can find any a' yer other toon co-stars."

His head tilted a little, touched by her sincerity. "Well gee; yer really as sweet as they always said ya were. Not many people ever gave this big ol' hungry wolf a chance. Sure, I'll help...s'the least I could do after what ya did fer me. I oughta be around t' protect ya from the lurkin' dangers down on th' lower floors anyway."

Betty hummed. "_That_ would be a big help. Let's go then...where are yer other friends? I thought I'd at least meet Bendy; he's the star, ain't he?"

The taller toon made sure to keep up with her as they walked along the corridor, back toward the main entrance to the studio. "Yeah, he is; Bendy th' Dancin' Demon, they call 'im. But, sadly...he disappeared, long time ago. I think he might still be in this place, I just don't know where..." he glanced up in thought and scratched the side of his head. "But I _do_ know where Alice might be. If anyone knows where Bendy is, it could be her."

Betty glanced up at him questioningly. "Alice? Who's she?"

"Oh, Alice Angel!" Boris smiled. "She made up our trio a little later on inta th' cartoon. You'll like her; she's much like ya, a lovely singer an' dancer. Could have a temper sometimes, but still pretty nice. She was the first of us with a real voice actor when the cartoons went thataway."

"Oh, she _does_ sound like a treat!" Betty gave a little excited clap. "Don't think I ever heard a' _her_ before though."

Boris grimaced a little. "Yeah, y'prolly wouldn't've. There was always talk that she'd be as popular as Bendy, maybe more; they even tried t' give Alice her own episodes. But, sadly, she didn't get that popular...at all. Broke 'er heart a little, but she kept at it, an' Bendy an' I still liked 'er, even if they'd fight over the spotlight some."

At that, Betty certainly felt for the poor girl. The exact same thing happened when she eventually outshone her co-star Bimbo the dog; but _her_ popularity soared, and _he_ had ended up here in the Land of the Forgotten for a time. She was still so very grateful that he'd never held any grudge against her for it.

"Well, I certainly can't wait t'meet 'er, _and_ Bendy. Hope we _do_ find him."

"Hope so too...t'be honest...I'm rememberin' things now that make me doubt we'll even be _able_ t'save them," he whimpered. "I got nothin', an' _you_..." he seemed to brighten up a little then. "Well, _you _were actually able t' save _me_...you still _got_ your toon abilities. So maybe...maybe there _is_ a chance we can snap 'em out of it!"

"There's _always_ a chance, honey!" Betty encouraged with a little pat on his shoulder. "Just believe in it!"

"Eh, that's what Mr. Drew always said...dunno if I _do_ believe it. But considerin' things, I'll certainly try."

"Now there's the pep I'm lookin' for," said Betty with a swing of a fist through the air.


	2. Chapter 2

((AN: Time for the next chapter! ^^ I've decided I'll post these up weekly, early in the morning on Wednesdays my time, so that I'll have plenty of buffer and time to finish the story.

Thanks a lot to those of you who stopped to comment, I always appreciate it! Even a favorite does wonders for the ol' muse.

This chapter took a bit for me to write, because it's mostly just an exploration kinda thing, with our two heroes doing some looking and discovering of the music floor, sans Sammy Lawrence...for now. :3 But I did have fun writing the dialogue, plus we do start to get into a bit of trouble with certain monsters...and we also find out some backstory about why the toons were there in the first place...and where they are at this point.

I hope you guys enjoy; and don't worry, once we hit the next chapter, things'll get quite interesting indeed. I'm just blazing through my ideas. xP))

* * *

Chapter 2

It took Boris a moment to figure out his bearings before they actually managed to get anywhere. But once he spotted a door off to the side of the employee break room that opened to a staircase downwards, it was like a switch of recognition had lit up in his mind.

"There used ta be a path that they let tourists take through th' studio," he explained. "Supposed t'be an elevator that went from the top floor an' down on through, an' it just kept goin' th' more the studio kept bein' built. This here ain't th' real studio, a'course, just a mirror copy a' th' one from th' real world...but it's all here...includin' th' Ink Machine." He shuddered. "Nasty thing...it influences this place an' connects it ta th' real studio. I'd take ya straight to th' elevator, but...it was destroyed. So we havta take th' long way, first through the basement where they kept th' music department."

"Fascinatin'," Betty hummed as she looked around, interested in some of the new posters they were passing. A few featured Alice Angel, who indeed looked like she could have been a popular star if things were different. "So, why's the elevator destroyed?"

Boris frowned. "Alice destroyed it. She didn't want anyone else gettin' down t' the lower levels an' gettin' hurt...or worse...endin' up like..." his voice trailed off with a whimper.

Concerned, Betty stopped their walking and took his gloved hand with a pat on the back. "Please tell me what happened here, Boris...it'll prob'ly help. An' it'll let me know exactly what ta expect."

And so he did, albeit with quite a bit of reluctance. He started at the beginning, with some backstory to the studio itself; he didn't know everything...only that Joey Drew had eventually had the Ink Machine built and installed, and that the ink inside was cursed with powerful magic that could even allow him to somewhat communicate with the toon world. There, he and Bendy and Alice were living out their happy days in the black-and-white universe of their own, with songs and laughter and trouble, and like all toons, vaguely aware that their lives were a show.

Then one day, they were called to this place, the copy of the real Joey Drew Studios workshop.

"Y'can imagine our excitement when we were promised that we'd see th' studio," Boris was smiling with the memory. "Very few toons ever get t' see th' real world, an' meet their creators. Jus' like you all did."

Betty _could_ imagine it. The first time she'd met Uncle Max was like magic; Koko had done it a million times before inviting her along. Through the pure imagination stored in that inkwell and pen alone, they helped create some amazing things in their time.

"Mr. Drew told us that he needed us fer somethin' goin' on in th' real world, somethin' wonderful, an' that the Ink Machine would be our ticket there. He asked Bendy to go down inside first, that we'd be coming later. We just said we'd see him again soon, an' away he went."

He sniffed against another welling of tears, his ears drooping. "But...we _didn't_ see 'im again. It was a good long time before we were called back...an' there was no explanation, no Bendy, no nothin'. Joey jus' wanted Alice next. She told me t' come with 'er, just in case somethin' was wrong.

"Th' Ink Machine was..._nothin'_ like we imagined. But we _could_ peer into th' real world from its windows. An' we saw what Joey intended t' do. He was tryin' t'...t' turn his _own_ _employees _into toons, usin' their souls!

"We couldn't find Bendy anywhere in that machine...but we _did_ find one a' Drew's unfortunate victims. Miss Susie Campbell...Alice's first voice actress. I wanted ta run away an' never come back, but...Alice wanted t'help her. Susie too was denied th' chance t' be a star through Alice...so Alice thought she'd help both of 'em. By bringin' her here, I guess, or go there...I don't know what she was thinkin', but she was dead set.

"An' when she touched th' wall that separated the two worlds...touched Susie...well...things went horribly wrong. Alice got trapped inside...an' knowin' that things were horribly wrong, she told me t' run, never look back...an' I did. I ran."

The wolf had to stop and sit down, plopping himself onto a crate near a door at the bottom of the staircase as the tears just welled up, his eyes wide and shimmering. Betty sat next to him, keeping her full attention to the story.

He began again with a breath. "But I couldn't run forever. So I looked around fer a way that _I _could enter the real world. It was worth a try...especially if I could find a way to bring Alice n' Bendy back. An' it _worked, _t'my surprise.

"I wandered around the remnants of the studio there...it was a nightmare. Broken down n' flooded with th' cursed ink. No people...but there were monsters who were people once. I avoided 'em like th' plague. At one point I thought I saw Bendy...but he wasn't the Bendy I knew. He was cruel an' mindless. A monster wanderin' th' halls...the Ink Demon, they called 'im.

"I ended up findin' Alice again down in th' toy warehouse. But...she wasn't the Alice I knew, either. An' when she found _me_...well..."

There was a brief flash back to the pain and torment he suffered at the hands of the woman with two faces and two minds, and of his husk of a body being placed back into the Machine...and returning in that state, back to his world...alone and scared for so long that eventually he just tried to sleep through it.

"Well...it _is_ a good thing toons can't die. But it still hurt like th' dickens. I could've prob'ly gotten back t' speed if I tried...but by then, in th' real world...our time passed. We were forgotten. An' it was too hard. An' that's where we are now."

Boris was quivering under Betty's touch as he finished the story, like a leaf waiting to be blown from a tree. And Betty herself was horrified, trying to simply get the images out of her mind. Toons could get themselves into downright sticky situations...but _this_ was another level. _This _was playing with fire and using them as kindling. _This_ was...unforgivable, and she was usually quite forgiving.

"Oh...you poor poor dear..." her head shook as she squeezed his hand and looked around in her bag, producing a white handkerchief. "I never could've imagined...oh my..." she looked up at him and patted his cheek to get his attention, handing him the piece of cloth. "Well, y'know, yer free now...if ya want, ya don't ever hafta be in this place again...we can just leave..."

The wolf sniffed and wiped the tears that were dripping from his eyes. "...That's right nice of ya, Betty...but...I can't. I _have_ to see if I can't save my friends, especially now as I might be able ta." He paused to blow his nose before handing the cloth back to her. "Goin' back home without 'em...it wouldn't be th' same at all. Alice deserves it. _Bendy_ deserves it. I'm terrified as all heck, but...I _gotta_ find 'em, I just gotta."

Betty let out an impressed sigh (and politely closed the handkerchief in his hand for him to keep). "Yer a real brave wolf, Boris. Yer right...I came in ta help _all_ of ya, an' that's what I intend ta do."

The wolf perked up, standing again as he gave an enthusiastic nod and shoved the handkerchief in his pocket. "An' we'll do it together. We're pretty close to th' music department anyway. Then it'll be a ways down to th' stairs inta Heavenly Toys. Alice oughta be there."

"Ya sure?" Betty asked as she followed along. "It sounded like she was trapped down in th' Ink Machine."

"Well, when I was back in the other world spyin' on her, Alice...Susie...well, Alice _in_ Susie...gave me a clue. She was mutterin' about bein' sad that all her dolls never sold, so they're all in a pile in th' toy warehouse, an' she wished she weren't stuck there. Tells me she can maybe see it, at least. Heh," he chuckled, "I can see Alice though, playin' in a mountain of her toys. I'd play in a mountain of lil' Borises."

Betty giggled at the image. "I know the feelin'."

"Bit jealous that Bendy got dolls that _squeaked_ though..." he snorted. "Aw well. Anyway...we better be careful goin' through here. It's where th' Searchers lurk."

"...Searchers, huh?"

"Yup. They're livin' ink puddles, basically, always tryin' t' go after ya. They're annoyin', 'specially if they gang up on ya, but they're easy to deal with. Matter a' fact..." the wolf mused as he suddenly seemed to spot something, and walked up to a fire ax hanging on the wall, reaching up to it. "Prob'ly gonna need this."

"Ooh, dear me," Betty said, shaking her head with a _tsk_ or two. "They _do_ sound like bad news."

"_Very_ bad news," Boris agreed, giving a couple test swings of the ax. "They ain't even _from_ this world, neither. They can move from this one t' that one an' back again...thankfully they're th' only ones that _can_. So yer gonna hafta stay close, Betty; it ain't no place fer a lady. If things get sour, y'just stay behind me, or run."

"Oh, I ain't runnin'; I'm in this for the haul, like I said before," Betty assured as she reached into her bag. "B'sides...I'll bop a few of 'em in the head too if I have to." Retrieving her hand, she was gripping a rather large frying pan as she winked. "It ain't a hammer, but it does the job."

Boris blinked a couple of times in surprise before giving out a chuckle. "Guess yer as good as yer gonna be, then. Let's go...but let's also be quiet. Might end up passin' 'em by."

So, with the wolf in the lead, the toons passed through the last of the stairwell and found themselves between two doors: one marked "Exit", and the other marked for the music studio. Boris took a second to stare wistfully at the exit door, before being reminded by a gentle touch from Betty that there was work to be done. The music door was opened, and there was the stairway entrance to the extensive basement, done up with lots of old vinyl records of their beloved tracks.

Betty couldn't help but whimper to herself, as was a habit when she was worried, but it took a "shush" motion from the wolf to get her to stay silent. The only sounds they heard were their shoes echoing along the wood floor, which sounded pretty hollow underneath them. _I wonder just how far down this place goes? _The toonette thought, her curiosity already about to outweigh her worry once again.

There were a few places to go in the main floor, all of it mapped by the various signs standing around, along with more new posters to advertise new cartoons. One side door led to the sound recording studio, while a set of stairs led up into the projection booth. Another hallway led straight to the music director's office, and to an abandoned infirmary. They crept through there first.

Seeing the window to the office, Boris sighed and placed his gloved hand on the glass. "Sammy Lawrence was our music director. Very talented, could play an' conduct _any_ instrument, an' he wrote all the beats. Now...on th' other side, he's an ink creature like all the others. Don't even remember himself...an' he's insane. Wish there was somethin' we could do to help our creators out too."

"Aw, Boris," Betty sighed sadly, "I know how ya feel...I'd wanna do th' same, if it was _my_ creators."

He shook his head and curled his fist against the dusty window. "I gotta think about my friends now, I guess. Anyway," he said, snapping out of his stupor and looking around, "If I remember, there was a door that led straight through to the elevator t' Heavenly Toys...just forgettin' _where_. Been _ages_ since I walked the place, an' I was in a hurry at th' time," he finished with a sheepish grin.

Betty just giggled. "Well, it's gotta be around here somewhere. How 'bout one a' th' doors near th' recordin' studio?"

"Prob'ly," he agreed, "Just remember t' stay quiet in th' main room."

"As a mouse," Betty promised.

And so, trying to be as discreet as possible, they searched the entirety of the music department for any clue as to proceed...even so far as to step into the infirmary, and even a portion of the sewer system where lyricist Jack Fain worked his magic in peace. But all that they could find otherwise were old workstations, plenty of sheet music, and plenty more instruments (which Betty had to resist the urge to even pluck a string).

At one point, they walked up to the projection booth. Boris was about ready to tear apart the desk in his own frustration (and he didn't dare look at the ax in his hand for more ideas).

Betty, meanwhile, nosy as ever, hummed as she looked out from the balcony to the orchestra chairs, still so nicely set up with various instruments sitting beside them. It was sad to see really; things that could have made such lovely music in their day were now left to rot in the dust, with nary a guiding hand to bring the notes out of them.

In her musing, the toonette didn't realize how far she was leaning, and ended up accidentally flipping the switch to the projector. The fully-stocked reels started to spin, and a cartoon started to play a little lopsidedly onto the screen on the far end of the room.

The noise startled Boris out of his own thoughts, and he whirled around to see Betty rather transfixed to the performance on the screen. The title screen flashed ever so briefly in his vision: "Tombstone Picnic". It was a short animation, but it was a memorable one.

"Well well," the wolf hummed quietly as he stood on the other side of the projector on the balcony, "I haven't seen this here episode in forever. It's one of our first ones."

"It's rather nice," Betty smiled, hearing the nostalgia in his voice.

"Yeah...unfortunately, this episode lost its endin', we found out when we were called. I don't think Mister Drew ever said how or why. We all jus' kinda shrugged it off."

"I heard that your cartoons were usually all pretty short?"

"Yeah, heh...don't think th' animators ever had th' time t' make such grand ones like yours, or anybody's. Or maybe they were made to fit more n' one in. Hard t' know."

Then came the portion of the episode where he came in. Betty could hear him whimper a little sheepishly at the image of an annoyed Bendy tapping his shoulder as he ate the little devil's picnic. "I wasn't the nicest to Bendy, lookin' back now. I always liked food more n' anythin' else. I got better, but, I never did apologize to 'im...before we..."

"Oh, Boris," Betty soothed with a pat on his arm. "We were _all_ young an' foolish once, even me. I'm sure he'd forgive ya."

The wolf sighed. "Hope yer right. Heck, maybe findin' 'im will count fer somethin'."

The reel soon reached its abrupt end, devoid of anything but the swift _click_ of the projector...and once the echo died, something else came to life. Down in the recording studio, a rolling door rumbled on its track as it moved upward to reveal another entrance.

The toons blinked and traded glances. "That there room was Sammy's secret bunker in th' real world...guess it didn't need nobody in the pit to play an' open it," Boris whispered.

"Ooh...could there be something in there we could use?"

He grimaced and held the ax a little tighter. "Might be...might not. Worth a try. Stay with me."

Slowly, they made their way back into the recording studio, each wielding their respective weapons as they eyed the newly-opened door. Peering in, they saw nothing of trouble...just more instruments being stored and more thrumming ink pipes. Boris led the way into the end and a shiver crawled up his spine at what they found.

The old music director's desk was littered with dozens upon dozens of sheet music pages, ink splatters, and in general just looked like the workstation of a very frustrated individual. But that wasn't nearly as hair-raising as what was painted on the floor below the desk: an occult summoning circle, with candles at its outer edges.

Betty shivered. "Ooh...I keep seein' those around...they give me a bad feelin'. An' I should know, I've _been_ around hellish things. Well, mostly in a dream, but I still know 'em."

"Yeah...I think Mister Drew used 'em with the Ink Machine t' do his dastardly work. Sammy, back in th' other world, jus' used 'em t' try an' get th' Ink Demon's attention."

"Me oh my," she covered her mouth. "So..._do _they get his attention?"

"...I'm not sure, t'be honest. But I think I see our way out, on th' desk." Where he pointed, next to a small Bendy doll, was a set of keys. "Those belonged to Mister Wally Franks, th' janitor. Sweet guy, or so I heard. If'n anythin' can open an unlocked door t'get downstairs, it's gotta be in those."

"Janitors _are_ pretty handy," Betty agreed. "I'd say that's it. Let's get 'em an' go."

"Roger wilco," said Boris with a little salute and a stuck-out tongue as he tried to reach out to the desk for the keys...but staying well behind the drawn circle, which made his reach _just_ a little too short.

Betty tilted her head. "Yer really thrown off by those, ain'tcha?"

"Well, yeah! No tellin' _what_ they could do on _this_ side."

She tutted and stepped forward. "Well, no sense in findin' out, but..." she took her frying pan and turned it around so that the handle could reach over the circle and, thus, around the key-ring. With a little flip and a jingle, it was flung in the air to be caught by Boris's waiting glove. "See? There's _always_ a solution, even if it takes some thinkin'...just like my Grampy always said. Good ol' Grampy, wait'll he hears about this..."

"I'm sure this'll all make a good story fer later," Boris agreed hastily and turned to lead them back out. "Now let's get _outta_ this..."

_Hrrrrgh..._

"...Place."

Betty let out a little chirp of a yelp. "W-what was that?"

And on cue to answer her, straight out of a puddle of ink that hadn't been there on the floor before, came the upper body of what can only be described as a being made of the stuff. Black, shining, and alive, but not at all in the sense that the toons were. It breathed heavily, like it was struggling to do so through constantly-flowing liquid; and its eyeless sockets were fixed straight upon the intruders in its domain.

"That would be a Searcher," Boris said with a little growl as the creature immediately started to crawl towards them, only to be caught on the swift end of an ax to the face, which bounced it back into the puddle from whence it came.

Betty shuddered. "Ooh, nasty thing..."

Suddenly, the sound of sloshing ink and more groans erupted from the end of the hallway, and the wolf had to take a deep breath, raising his black-stained blade. "An' there's more where that came from."

"Oooh...what do we do?"

"Run," he said, and all that Betty could do was let out a little squeak as she was nabbed by the hand. She was flying behind Boris as he all but _zoomed_ out of the sanctuary entrance, and into a room full of ink puddles that were popping out more and more of the _incredibly_ disturbing creatures, filling the space with groans and harsh breathing.

But once outside of the recording studio, the toons had finally stopped to take a short breath, and Boris's head was constantly turning around to eye the other doors. "W-which one was it?"

"Well, let's just try all the ones we haven't opened yet!" Betty hastily suggested just as another Searcher spawned upward next to them. This time, she was the one on the ball as the flat end of the frying pan caught the inky creature in the face and sent it flying. For such solid-looking beasts, it felt like they were actually pretty weak. "Oof, fresh..." she grumbled.

Boris, meanwhile, hacked through a few more as he tried to think on where to go. Just then, his eyes lit up on a door that opened just to the side of the projection booth stairway. _"Thatta way!"_ he practically roared over the consistent moaning of the monsters around them, and once again took Betty by the wrist to lead her on, and again through (that is, after fumbling a little with the keys while she smacked a couple more Searchers in their ugly mugs).

Once inside, they slammed the door shut on them and took a minute to catch their breaths.

As soon as she felt it safe to look up again, Betty hummed and put her hands on her hips. "This is a small room. Looks like a lil' break area, considerin' th' pool table."

Boris let out a short "whew" before looking where she pointed. "Oh, yeah, that. Heh, yeah, some a' th' workers used this place t' let out some steam once. Gee...makes what happened all the more sad when ya think about it."

"I s'pose...so what now?" Her brow furrowed. "Is this really a way out, or were you just lookin' for th' closest door?"

The cartoon wolf chuckled nervously. "Yeah, kinda...I'm sorry, I was too scared t' think. Also, hope I didn't hurt ya, jus' pullin' ya like that."

"Aw, it's alright," Betty waved him off with a smile. "Such a gentleman. Really, I've been man-handled worse than that, an' you were just makin' sure I was right behind ya. Hm...let's see now...maybe we should just wait 'til they're gone."

Boris was about to agree, when his ears perked and he scratched his chin in thought. "Or we could try _that_ door."

She followed his pointing hand to another rolling-roof door on the other side of the makeshift game room. "Ooh! Where does that go?"

"Prob'ly to a backstage maintenance room, if'n I know the place right," he hummed and looked around the boxes and stored props for a switch box...which in fact was hidden right behind another Bendy poster. "Ah, here we go," he said and turned the appropriate key to the box, pressing the switch inside.

The door rumbled open, making such a noise that the toons feared would alert more Searchers...but after it stopped and the noise died down...

Nothing. Not a peep. Just another corridor lit with sporadic flashing lights and darkened with blotches of endlessly-dripping ink. After a pause, quietly, they continued onward.

Now, Betty would have been one of the last toons ever to think that logic had a place in their world. But even among toons, there was _some_ order to the universe, and as she observed the studio and its harrowing corridors, there started to be less and less of it here.

The music department had really been built into the basement, and Utility Shaft 9 was like a maze of hallways just for the maintenance crew and engineers that built the ink pipes into the walls. Gears were turning, electronic boxes were buzzing...so much convoluted machinery that seemed to lead nowhere and everywhere, among the rest of what _should_ have made an animation studio: posters, desks, reels, and all sorts of memorabilia.

"Gee whiz," Betty commented after a long walk, past a large storage room and ending up at another door that needed a key to open. "Is the studio back in the real world as big as this one?"

"It was just about the same, yeah," said Boris as he cautiously opened the door. On the other side, he saw row upon row of plushies sitting on shelves; he sighed with relief. They were close to the toy warehouse. He let her in first and continued. "It goes underground a good ways. There're a few changes between 'em, like back there, there's even _more_ monsters; not even just th' humans. Plus, th' ink from th' machine floods badly in places, so badly th' floors cave in, an' there's lakes of it, s'hard t' get around. It ain't much better here, some things jus' moved around, an' th' ink is controlled...somehow...but anyway, I _think _all we have t' worry about are Searchers, and..."

Suddenly, he was interrupted as they rounded a corridor and were beset by a noise unlike any that Betty had yet heard. It was subtle, but it was close enough to recognize as that of a heartbeat. And as it slowly got closer, the walls were getting darker, covered in seething shadows.

Boris gasped, and immediately grabbed Betty to duck aside into an abandoned office supply door.

Again she let out a squeal as she was rushed inside, struggling a little against Boris's grip. "Oh good grief, what is it _this _time...?"

"-Shh!" he hissed and covered her mouth as the two of them peered out the glass window of the door, his ears as low as possible and his voice only above a trickle of a whisper. "Don't make _any_ sound."

Outside, the shadows crept along the walls until they encompassed all of where they'd been standing. The immediate vicinity was raining a viscous black liquid, ink their only guess...and the creature responsible ambled into view, freezing them solid with fear.

Betty had been plenty scared of things in her days...but she couldn't remember _this_ kind of fear. She could feel the malice dripping from this tall, emaciated beast that looked only vaguely similar to little Bendy, its plastered-on grin quivering on a face obscured with its own black, dripping ink.

It walked past, seemingly either unaware of the toons or paying them no mind, and opened a black portal onto the opposite wall where it instantly vanished along with its palpable, hellish aura. Another minute passed before Boris deemed it safe to open the door again.

"Th' Ink Demon," he whispered with a shaky voice in an explanation. "From what I heard from tapes lyin' around from th' humans, back in the real world, they tried to create a likeness of Bendy himself...an' failed, badly. They wanted t' keep 'im locked up...but...now he roams th' place just takin' out whatever he can find...or _whoever_. Didn't know he could also come into _this_ world."

"Ooooh, he gives me th' willies somethin' bad," Betty shivered uncontrollably, clinging to his arm. "He...he's not _actually_ Bendy, is he…?"

Boris shook his head slowly. "Don't think so...or at least, I don't _wanna_ think so. Sometimes I got a _feelin'_ from him that was familiar...but...if it _is_ Bendy...he's real far gone. I don't even wanna _think_ about what could've happened to him. Thankfully, back on th' other side, he never paid no attention t' me...but I dunno _what_ he'd do t' _you_."

"Oh...all the more reason t' probably get movin', then," Betty sighed as she nervously wiped her hands on her dress pants. "Are we close t' where we need t'go?"

"Better," he said with a small smile as he recognized another door nearby. "That there's an employee lounge, with a kitchen. I could use a food break."

The toonette let out a small giggle. "I don't think ya changed _too_ much from yer cartoon days there, Boris. But, now that ya mention it, I could also use a lil' somethin' ta fill th' tummy." As if on cue, there came a loud rumble from her gut. "Heehee...how embarrassing..."

"Welp, let's stop n' fill th' tanks, then," he waved her over to the door as he unlocked it. "Prob'ly th' only good thing about this place, it's filled to th' _brim_ with cans of Briar Label brand bacon soup. It's like our trademark food, or somethin' like that."


	3. Chapter 3

((AN: Time for the next chapter! This one was one of my favorites to write; rather like Chapter 3 is my favorite level of the games. x3 Funnily enough, Chapter 4 of the story is going to be just slightly longer than this one. Feels like I'm subconsciously channeling the time span of the game sections.

At any rate, our friends press on, and find some familiar faces...as well as one they'd been meaning to find. It was interesting coming up with the concept I had of how Alice affects the real world studio, but the pieces fell together pretty easily; not to mention some more questions are answered about the fake studio itself...but there are still plenty more to discover...at least now the story's kicking up some more excitement than just wandering detective work.

Still hope the story's enjoyed! Please let me know what you think, if you do, very much appreciated!))

* * *

Chapter 3

For the place that it was in, the break room was indeed a cozy little area, and it made for a perfect place for Betty to stop, rest, and think about her current situation.

The toons that ended up in the Lost Place were often in a pickle when they were; Betty had seen many of them in bad shape before they came to be rescued. But things so far hadn't been _this_ bad. She wondered if there was even an ability to leave this crafted cartoon studio if it came to that…well, she was sure there was for _her_. But not for _them,_ that was certain.

She glanced over at Boris as he warmed up some soup at the small stove top, more than happy to be the host for her. He'd really been such a sweet wolf, and quite upbeat most of the time, despite what had happened to him. Not to mention so very helpful. She was pretty certain now that he could be trusted. Betty owed it to him to help.

But as for the other toons? Both were still very much a mystery, especially now...and the presence of the Searchers and the Ink Demon were now a real problem, a wrench thrown into the proverbial machine. This was going to be much trickier than she thought, and could only hope and pray that it would come out as smoothly as they could get it.

"An' here we go," Boris announced as he came in with two bowls of hot, steaming bacon soup. The smell was interesting, though delectable. "Warm n' toasty. Hope y' like it."

"Aw, you're too kind, Boris...don't worry, it's pretty hard to ruin canned soup," she reassured, and took a small spoonful to cool off and sample. "Hm," she smacked her lips a couple of times, "Not too bad; a lil' bland though, could use pepper. Say, how long have these soups been here, anyway?"

Boris scratched his head with thought. "Y'know, I don't know. But I reckon they can keep fer ages. Don't even have a date on 'em."

"I see," Betty answered, a little disturbed as she looked down at the soup, though it still looked fresh enough. "Welp, good thing I brought sandwiches ta go with it. Ya like turkey?"

"Ooooh, I _love_ turkey...s'been so long, I can't remember what a turkey sammich tastes like."

"Well, then this'll do th' trick," said Betty as she reached into her bag and pulled out a couple of the said food stuffs, one for her and one for Boris.

The wolf was salivating so much that it looked as if _he_ would flood the floor along with the ink. He immediately bit into the sandwich and practically melted. After a few chews, he swallowed and gave her a pair of wide, glistening eyes. "Gee, Betty, thank ya..."

"Oh tut tut, it's nothin'...plenty more where that came from. So while we're here, why don'tcha tell me more about your part a' th' toon world."

Boris then wove different tales from the various animations that he and the others were a part of; some of which Betty had seen before, and many others that she hadn't. It sounded like a good place to be, despite some of the interesting people that lived there...and of course, apparently, one creature of Heaven and one creature of Hell. It was an interesting mix of characters to be sure, but she knew that cartoons thrived on the hilariously impossible, impractical, and strange. It felt rather like her own world. She'd have to visit it someday.

"Gosh," Boris sighed, "I sure do miss home. My house, my friends, my food—s'specially my food—I really hope we can find Bendy n' Alice, n' bring 'em back..."

"We will," Betty promised. "Or we'll sure as heck try. There ain't a toon I've met that's impossible ta get out of a sticky situation."

Boris had to chuckle. "Well, I seen some a' _your_ cartoons back in th' day...you _do_ have a knack fer gettin' outta trouble."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, after I get in it first. But I still got it, an' don'tcha forget it, wolfy!"

"Cross m' heart," said Boris with raised hands, causing the two of them to giggle.

After a good rest, they felt refreshed enough to continue on with the journey through the expansive studio. Just a little distance from the lounge (and a line of sadly-discontinued snack machines), they made their way quietly through a section of maintenance tunnels that finally led the way into the _right_ corridor: the Heavenly Toys warehouse.

"Oooh..." Betty awed, gazing slowly around the massive room in which they found themselves. "All these toys…! You weren't kiddin' about this."

Boris stopped to nab a stuffed version of himself off the floor and dusted it off. "Nope! Mr. Flynn, our toymaker, and his team made all these and others. Mine n' Bendy's sold well...Alice's, not so well."

Their eyes wandered upward to the Heavenly Toys logo that sat above a massive fountain, probably meant for water and only coursing ink downward into a round pool.

"Now...hopefully, she's here somewhere. I know th' other version of her liked to keep a lair down a few floors."

She patted his arm. "Let's just start lookin'. We're _bound_ ta find a clue at least."

He only gave a solemn nod and a practically silent gulp, remembering what had happened the _last_ time he saw this part of the other studio. He gave his toy one last squeeze and set it on the edge of the ink pool where it would be more comfortable before they kept going.

The stairs upward to the toy workshop creaked under their weight and echoed heavily above them; it reminded Betty of how forlorn it was down here, and a shiver crawled up her spine. Thankfully, the room itself wasn't a bad-looking little area, made a little more whimsical by the toys. She picked up an Alice doll to look it over. "Well shoot, _I'd _buy one...they're all cute, really, oh...what's wrong with people, I swear, no taste at all..."

"I hear ya...I have one a' every toy sittin' on a shelf at home...a-as a souvenir, ya know, not that I _play_ with 'em, I'm grown wolf, but..."

"Oh relax, hon, I getcha; everyone's got a hobby." She opened her bag and hummed, placing the Alice inside, as well as one Boris and one Bendy (that she gave a healthy squeak). "Mm...might as well have some souvenirs too, that is, if I can pay for 'em somewhere..."

Boris laughed. "Aw, shucks, just take 'em, Betty; plenty more here where that came from anyways...Alice n' Bendy would wantcha to. Now, there should be a door that leads t' some offices...th' elevator shaft'll be through th' hall, an' so will th' stairwell...we're on Level K, so we'll need ta go t'..."

Before the wolf could finish his sentence, though, there suddenly came a loud crashing noise. The toons whirled on their feet to face the door that they had yet to open, and behind it, to their surprise, were a bunch of voices squabbling over each other.

Cautiously, Boris and Betty leaned in and lent an ear to listen in on the other side. Among a flurry of scrabbling and crashing into the wall, like one of the projectors was going haywire, came what they could discern were three toons:

"...I don't think ye know where ye be goin'..."

"Aw, can it, will ya? I do _so_ know where I'm goin'. Just been a while, that's all!"

"Yeah, Barley, have a bit of trust in him, he's the leader!"

"_Ye_ best be stayin' _quiet_, y' nose-wipin' lil' bug..."

"'Ey, y'wanna fight somebody, fight _me,_ not Edgar."

"I'll _gladly_, bilge rat...!"

Boris leaned back with wide eyes. "Well, I'll be doggoned..." he laughed. "That's the Butcher Gang!"

The toonette hummed curiously. "Now _them_ I've heard of from yer cartoons...ain't they a buncha troublemakers?"

He chuckled lightly. "Yeah, kinda...let's just say they ain't the goodest people 'round, but they ain't the sharpest neither. Still, s' actually _good_ ta hear their voices again...there are versions of th' Butcher Gang in the other studio but...they're just mindless, messed-up monsters too. I just wonder how th' real deal got _in_ here."

"Well, if _I_ could, any toon could, powers or no. Why don't we drop in, see what's goin' on with 'em?"

Boris cocked his head to the side and blinked. "I'm not sure that's a good idea...but then again, they _might_ have a clue as to where Alice would be, and what's been goin' on since I was out cold."

"Worth it to ask," Betty suggested with a little shrug. "Antagonist-like toons're still toons. They'll be waitin' for a chance back in th' limelight too, and I'll help anyone once."

Meanwhile, the squabbling behind the door seemed to turn into an all-out brawl. Boris tested the knob and was happy to find that it wasn't locked. The two of them entered the threshold into a back room that seemed to be dedicated to an unveiling of Alice Angel...except it looked like a whirlwind had hit it.

Toys and cutouts of the titular toon were scattered in all sorts of directions, along with monitors and a camera. In the studio's heyday, in another time, it could have been a little place for visitors to get to know the angel herself. But now, it was a right mess, covered in more ink puddles...and of course, the sight of three short and motley individuals awkwardly staring at the intrusion, all tied up in spider-webbing.

The Butcher Gang were also each covered in an array of bruises and scratches, looking like they'd just escaped a battle. They blinked in unison, until the leader (Charley, Betty was surprised to remember), broke the silence.

"...What in th' Sam Hill? What's a Boris doin' on _this_ side?"

"Uh, I think that might be _the_ Boris, Charley..." said the young spider Edgar, a little tentatively.

"Impossible! Every last one a' those clones'r opened up an' left fer dead!" Barley growled.

"If you'll _excuse me,_" Boris interrupted, instantly silencing the other three, "I happen ta _be_ th' real deal. Now, I'm wonderin' what th' heck _you_ three are doin' here."

"Well, see..." Edgar started.

"No, no chance we're talkin'!" Charley shot before he could say more, hopping on one foot in anger and taking his still-tied-to-him comrades along for the ride. "Any one a' those Borises could've followed us, if them Searchers could too! How do we _know_ yer the real deal, wolfy?"

Boris rolled his eyes. "I _talk_. They _don't._"

The Butchers looked between one another again, this time in thought. "...Yeh, I reckon he got us there," Barley finally confessed for them.

Betty, meanwhile, just watched this whole exchange with a small amount of confusion before breaking into the conversation by tapping Boris on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, but did I hear right? There's _clones_ a' you, Boris?"

Suddenly spotting the pretty (and famous) lady toon, however, the Butchers each got a grin on their faces. "Saay, Boris, who's yer friend?" Charley leered.

"I think that's Betty Boop!" Edgar said, bouncing excitedly this time. "Sure looks like it!"

"Well I'll be a land-lubber," Barley chuckled. "Think she'll give us an autograph?"

Betty just giggled, having been used to such attention all her life (and hoping to use that to get them to cooperate). "My my, so many fans I'm meetin' lately. You boys _do _look like you're in a bind, though."

"You could say that," said Charley with a little chuckle of his own, putting on his best smolder. "If y'wouldn't mind, little Miss, we _could_ use a hand..."

"Uh-uh," Boris piped up, stepping between them and brandishing his ax. "We ain't helpin' ya until _you_ talk. How'd you get in here?"

"How d'ya _think_, idiot?" the Butcher leader growled. "We _walked_ in. Real curious about th' joint, pretty fancy, seemed ripe for pickin'."

"It wasn't," Edgar added a bit sadly. "It kinda picked _us_."

"Ye shut up," said Barley as he managed to get one hand free to bop the spider's head with a fist. "We don't owe ya _no_ explanation, Boris, n' less ye give _us_ one first. Why're _you_ up n' about whilst yer clones 're lyin' strapped ta tables? An', well..." he gave Betty an apologetic smirk, "Not that we're _complainin',_ but what's with th' lass?"

"And again," Betty sighed and tapped her foot, "_What_ clones?"

Boris groaned a little and lowered his ax, looking to answer Betty's question first. "Y'know how I said that Mister Drew was tryin' ta make real toons with th' Machine, usin' people's souls? Well...apparently, th' first real success was a version of _me_. I reckon _that's_ how I was able t' cross into th' real world's studio usin' th' ink...I'm th' best match. An' well...there was a _ton_ of versions of me there. All snatched up by the wicked Alice Angel an'...well..."

"Gutted like a fish," Barley supplied with a huff.

The wolf growled, teeth quite bared now. "I _know_. I was treated to th' same mad doctor malarkey when I was caught. _That's_ really how ya know I'm real. _I'm_ an honest t' gosh toon...I came _back_. With my eternal gratitude ta Miss Betty Boop here. She came from Toon Town with _real_ creator's ink, lookin' ta help us outta th' gutter."

There was a quiet pause then, while the Butchers took the new information in.

"...Oh...gee, Boris...sorry 'bout th' mixup..." Edgar started, only for Charley to give him a nudge; the three of them however did look a bit more convinced by that point, and thus a bit less hostile.

"Now, you answer _us_," Boris continued, now gripping the ax with both hands. "How th' _hell_ do you know about what's goin' on, on the other side?"

The three of them silently exchanged looks, as if deciding among them to answer their questions—it was Barley against, and Edgar for—and Charley was the deciding factor. He gave a little growl, but acquiesced with a nod. "Aright, aright...we'll tell yas. But can yas _maybe_ get us outta this, first? Can't exactly stand here fer long...AUGH!" he yelped then when, on cue, his leg wobbled and sent the three of them crashing to the floor and straight into another ink splatter.

Betty and Boris exchanged their own looks (and snickers) before the toonette walked up to them with her hands on her hips. "We'll letcha outta there. But," she wagged a finger, "You guys gotta behave; we might need yer help too."

"Heh, well," Charley smirked, "How can we say no to a lovely lady?"

His statement was followed with enthusiastic nods from his two comrades. She gave a satisfied nod of her own and looked expectantly towards Boris.

The wolf narrowed his eyes at the three known troublemakers. "Better not regret this."

* * *

Once the Butcher Gang were freed, they were surprisingly true to their word and led the other toons back into the room from where they'd come, a hallway that led to a few more offices and lounges (they'd sworn up and down that the Ink Demon couldn't see through in there). It was in one such room—a cozy enough place with a softly-ticking Bendy clock and some food machines scattered around—where they took a seat on a couch, with Edgar and Barley nearby squabbling over some more bacon soup cans while Charley did the talking. Betty sat patiently on the other side of the couch, and Boris was leaning against the headrest from behind it, his arms crossed. He looked relaxed, but one could tell that he was _very_ ready to jump between the miscreant and his new friend if things seemed to go sour.

"We first noticed about this place prob'ly about th' second time they were called in," said the Butcher leader, talking of Alice and Boris. "It was _pretty_ strange that Bendy hadn't gone with 'em—no complaints in our department—but it was a day or two before we realized that the angel girl an' the wolf weren't back yet either. We three _had_ t' see what was so darned special about th' creators up an' comin' ta call...since _we_ weren't. So we got in, looked around...managed to get about as far as the basement before we were _overrun _by them Searcher things!

"I hope ya guys didn't get ta experience bein' dragged through th' ink...oh, th' horror..." he actually looked pitiable as he held his forehead in one hand briefly, "But eventually, we found ourselves _in_ th' Ink Machine itself, in some glass prison, and bein' able ta see _everything_ on th' other side! And now th' Machine had information about us, our designs...an' tried ta copy th' result there. What they got was a heaping ton of monsters like us...but _different_. What's more, that not-an-angel, whatever she was, was catchin' 'em, doin' th' most unspeakable things...yeah, suffice it t' say, we agreed t' avoid that place like th' plague when we escaped. Wasn't easy, but we managed...in our own way."

"Barley broke the glass of our container with a wrench," Edgar added in helpfully, which earned him a little swat from the toon in question.

"So wait, one question," Betty held a finger up, "_How_ do y'guys manage t' see into th' real side? I used to only really do it through my inkwell."

"There's projectors in th' machine that let ya see, like yer watchin' a movie. That's how Mister Drew could talk t' us too," Boris explained. "Only th' projectors in contact with th' Machine's ink could show it. Somehow I could also use that ink in there to step through. But..." He quirked an eyebrow at Charley, "_Y__ou _guys could get through too?"

"Eeeenh..." Charley grimaced. "Okay, no, we were never actually _there_. But we've been up n' down this whole place enough t' _know_, and we weren't about t' hang around while th' studio was infested with these monsters...an' worse...manipulated by th' _Ink Demon_."

The three short toons shuddered at once, and Edgar whimpered. "Don't mention him, he could hear!"

"So, that's where ya found us," Charley finished with a bit of an ironic hand flourish, ignoring the youngest member of his gang. "Tryin' ta get back outta this dump an' forget everything we saw. And if ya know what's good for ya, you'll do th' same."

Betty and Boris exchanged a glance before shaking their heads. "Sorry boys, no can do," Betty said with finality. "I came t'help all of ya. I got Boris, an' ran into _you, _now we just need t' find Bendy and Alice."

"Well ye can jus' count us out, lass!" Barley piped up while trying to pick open a soup can. "I fer one have had enough a' this!"

"'Fraid I agree," said Edgar as he nonchalantly took the can from his friend, pulled off the top, and handed it back. "I ain't old enough for a heart attack!"

Boris huffed. "Well, that's sure _fine_ by me, y'cowards. You guys at least have each other. _I'm_ going to find my friends, or get pulled back tryin'."

Betty sighed. "Well...can ya at least tell us whether or not Bendy and Alice _are_ on this side? Since y'seem ta have been everywhere and all."

Charley huffed. "An' whadda _we_ get, if we help?"

"_Not _an ax t' th' _head_, fer one," growled the wolf, who calmed down a little with a pat from Betty.

"And we'll pointcha back in the direction a' th' exit. Please, jus' tell us what ya know?" pleaded the toonette, with a little flutter of her eyelashes.

And of course, as expected, Charley practically melted in a pile of light-hearted chuckles, charmed by the girl. "Well, heh, I s'pose that's fair, dollface." Hearing a few snickers from his comrades, he sat up straight and cleared his throat. "Well, we don't know nothin' about where Bendy could be. I'd ask his darker doppelganger out there, if yer brave enough. As for Alice...well...I sorta was _exaggeratin' _when I said we've been _everywhere_ here. There's one place we _haven't_ been in detail, but that we _have _seen, from a safe distance: Level 14."

Now it was Boris's turn to shudder, letting out a little gasp as his hand covered his mouth. "Y'mean...where th' _Projectionist_ walks 'round?"

"On th' _other_ side, yeah," Charley corrected. "On _this_ side...all we managed t' see was an ocean of ink, through a blocked-up door, an' projectors runnin' windows t' his lair."

"And we heard singing," Edgar chimed in.

"Aye," Barley confirmed. "Like a sad siren call, echoin' from th' black deeps, forlorn n' empty."

"...Alice," Boris said with practically a whimper to his voice.

Betty grabbed his hand, feeling rather sad for him now too. "Oh my stars..." she looked back up at the three Butchers. "And yer _sure_ she can't be anywhere else?"

"Believe me, other than that level, we've seen th' place top t' bottom," Charley promised, his usually-snide expression turned to a serious grimace. "If th' real angel is anywhere, it's there...an' from th' look n' sound of the Wicked Witch of the other side, forced to help her control her mind through the projectors."

"Well…then we know where to go," Betty said with a determined nod, and stood up from the couch. "C'mon, Boris...let's go get 'er outta there."

"Darned right we will," said the wolf, perking his ears back up again. "As for you three...can't believe I'm sayin' this, but thanks fer th' help. Yer free t' go..." he pointed. "Just go out th' door where we came in on ya, through Heavenly Toys an' up th' stairs. An' don't let th' Searchers get ya again. Here...y'might need this," he said, turning the ax on its handle and offering it to them.

Charley looked rather tempted, but then waved his hand. "Eh, keep it; you guys'll prob'ly need it if more of 'em pop up. B'sides...we _did_ learn a thing or two from our other selves."

On cue, he nabbed a pipe from off his belt, while Barley nabbed a large wrench and Edgar (who preferred to improvise) just twirled a piece of spider silk like a lasso.

"Well, you boys look pretty well-prepared then," Betty said with a tilt of her head and a smile. "It was nice meetin' ya, an' good luck!"

"All the same back to ya, Miss Boop!" Edgar said with a salute.

"Definitely..." said Charley, the leer back on his face as his arm shot out to wrap around Betty's waist. "An' if you _do_ get outta here, look us up, eh?"

A surprised Betty was about to tell him off, only to have Boris do that with a very well-placed _thunk_ to the toon's noggin with the blunt side of the ax head. "Don'tcha press yer luck, buddy, just scram, will ya?"

"Aah!" Charley growled and massaged the bump on his balding scalp. "Aright, aright, we're goin'...an' hey, good luck t' you too. Give our regards t' Angelface an' th' runt."

"Ye _did_ deserve that, fearless leader..." snickered Barley as they walked off.

"Oh, shaddup."

Betty had to giggle. "I swear Boris, I coulda used you in _my_ cartoons some of th' time."

Shyly, he just chuckled back. "Aw...s'an honor t' know that."

And with that, the groups of toons parted ways...one rising, and the other descending.

* * *

"So, I might regret askin', considerin' things...but who's the Projectionist?"

Boris lowered his ears a little at Betty's inquiry, a familiar sad look coming to his eyes as they stepped into the elevator room. "Mister Norman Polk ran th' projector for our cartoons back in th' day. I don't know exactly what happened t' _him_ when everything went down...my only guess is that, b'cause he knew th' studio in an' out, he could figure when things were goin' sour...an' Mister Drew got wind of it an'...got rid of him. He's now another ink monster...mindless an' all 'round mean."

"Oh...oh dear me..." Betty hummed, rather disturbed (even for now, after everything else she's seen). "I really _do_ wish there was some way t' free th' real-worlders from this terrible mess."

Boris shrugged helplessly. "Maybe we can find one...somehow. Either way...we're about there."

The room they stepped in seemed to be a general waiting area for the elevator. A hastily-painted Level K sign hung above their heads, and downstairs from the banister, they could see the shaft: cables intact, but empty. Boris knew that if they tried the button, the call wouldn't be heeded. They'd have to get to the end of the stairwell line...and without being seen by the Ink Demon or the Searchers.

"I'm guessin' there ain't a way to fix the elevator, huh?" Betty inquired of the wolf as they strolled down the stairs and looked things over.

"Naw, 'fraid not...I think it's layin' in pieces all th' way down th' cables...to Level S. Oof..._that_ place is just...I don't wanna go there if I can help it."

"Then we won't, unless we have to," Betty reassured. "I feel if we go further anyway, we could get buried alive! Oooh...be good to get you all out of here, quick-like."

They were happy to find that at least the door to the stairwell was unlocked and unhindered, so they traversed that, careful with their creaky steps.

"Th' Ink Demon loves t' hang around this here series a' floors fer some reason...so it's best we stay quiet n' unnoticed. So far we had good luck with th' guy."

"Ohh dear, Boris, don't jinx it," Betty warned with a wave of her finger.

A few Searchers popped up to hinder their efforts on the way down, but they were easily disposed of...Boris however made sure they paused to listen for any sign of the Ink Demon's presence before continuing onward. Betty, though more than a little unsettled about him, started to wonder what would happen if they just talked to the monster. Would it be possible for him to have a voice in their universe? Any sort of powers that came with being a toon?

It was a good few flights before they came to the stairwell's dead end: Level 9.

Boris opened the door cautiously, then started scratching his chin as he found it all clear and they wandered out onto the floor. Betty observed the general feel of the place, as well as the variously-placed Alice Angel memorabilia. She hoped the poor girl was alright, and that they _would_ find her quickly.

"Now let's see..." the wolf hummed. "Should be another stairwell that leads down to th' other floors from here. Ooh, yeah...elevator's _definitely _not gonna help...cage is busted..."

Suddenly, he had to stop as there was a tug on one of his suspenders. He turned back to see Betty, frozen solid but for her fearful shaking, her little fingers keeping a remarkably strong grip on the strap. "Betty? Y'okay there? What's gotcha all...shaky..."

He trailed off as soon as he followed her gaze to the head of the room, where a large visage of Alice hung above the door in the grand fashion of her advertising.

Looking up at it silently, almost thoughtfully, was the tall and emaciated form of the Ink Demon. It seemed that he hadn't noticed their presence at all; he was just standing there, looking...or whatever it was that he seemed to be doing, as he didn't even have a set of eyes.

Boris was _not _expecting him here...in the real world, Alice's sanctum was a protected place...much as she made it, anyway. But in the toon world, it seemed, Bendy's failed doppelganger could go anywhere it wanted to. He gulped and slowly took a hold of Betty's shoulders, inching them back. "'Kay, I think we can get outta here if'n we just stay slow n' quiet. Back toward th' elevator," he whispered. "Jus' stay with me, Betty."

They practically tip-toed backwards, away from a none-too-aware monster, and back from where they came.

Things were quiet...up until the wolf's foot came down on an empty soup can, sending it rolling off from between the bars of the balustrade and making him lose his balance slightly.

_Clack-clack-CLANG-clack!_

Instantly, the entirety of the walls started _seething_ with cloudy shadows of ink, darkening the atmosphere. The ghastly impression of a heartbeat echoed all around, and the Ink Demon's head swiveled back with his painted grin quivering menacingly towards the intrusion.

Looking back, Boris would have thought that what he did next was _entirely_ foolhardy...but it was the only thing that had come to mind right then, and he went for it. "Okay, scrap that, plan B it is!" he rattled out as he grabbed a surprised and shrieking Betty and took a flying leap for the elevator cables.

As the Ink Demon started running towards them, Boris tried not to look directly at the creature as he caught the cable with one hand like a monkey would a vine, and slid straight downwards into the darkness, Betty tightly held with the other arm.

It minute's drop seemed like much more than that as the next floor came into view, and when he could see some solid ground, he jumped down onto it and practically zoomed around the corner, down a nearby set of stairs. Only then did he stop once he reached the bottom, his back flattened against the yellowed wooden wall as he breathed and listened. Betty, her grip tight on the arm that was held around her, was holding her own mouth closed.

A few tense seconds passed...but there was no Ink Demon appearing. No heartbeat, no ink clouds, nothing. The darkness above was empty.

"...Okay...not t' jinx it, but...we might be safe," he informed, finally remembering himself and letting Betty go with a timid look.

She gave him a nervous (but friendly) chuckle back and patted his shoulder in thanks for his quick escape. Then, she looked around. "Oh, dear...it _does_ look like a sea of ink down here, don't it?" she murmured, going up to the short balcony and leaning on the edge for a look outward.

The cavernous room was indeed flooded with the deep-black substance, and it looked for all the world to Boris like a hole into Hell. "Yeah...this is Level 14. I don't think I've been down here on _this _side...but I reckon we _might_ be able t' take th' Butcher Gang's word...wait."

They stopped even whispering, listening to the heavy silence. Boris always reckoned that this place might've been for a large theater or screening room for the cartoons, considering all the projectors laying about in the other version. This one was _just_ as foreboding and empty...save for the sound of quiet sobbing starting to echo in the chambers ahead of them.

The wolf's ears perked, and even Betty could now hear it, a quiet cadence of sorrow. She shook her head sadly. "Oh, dear me..."

Boris couldn't stand to wait any longer, after hearing that and feeling his heart dropping to his stomach. He _had_ to see if Alice was in there. The wolf steeled his nerves and took out his ax again, gripping it tightly and tugging the lip of his trousers up. "Let's go."

"R-right behind ya," Betty stammered back, but she also took her frying pan in a firm grip and just waited to see what could be lurking around in the ink as they made their way down another set of creaky stairs.

Betty thanked her lucky stars that she was _very_ well-versed in traveling through ink. She could feel some kind of force lurking within this gigantic shallow lake of it, perhaps the same force that gave life and movement to the Searchers and the Ink Demon. It felt very _wrong_ somehow, like it was imbued with the power of someone who could _never_ be a true Creator, even if they believed it so strongly.

"Ooh..." Betty sighed as she kept up with Boris, kicking away splashes of ink as they went. "So help me, if I ever meet Mister Drew someday, I feel I'd pop 'im one for allowing all this t' happen."

The wolf chuckled. "Oh trust me, th' feelin's mutual. Don't even know _where_ Mister Drew could be now...I feel so much time's passed...but at least I doubt he could bother us now."

Walking through the threshold of the chambers ahead, Boris was tense, like he was expecting the Projectionist to appear at any minute through the narrow corridors. But they didn't hear his telltale splashing through the puddle, or the clicking together of his cables and continuous, hot lighting and clicking of reels empty of film. Instead, they saw other projectors, stuck in the ink. Many were broken...but some were surprisingly functional and showing flashes of a similar place to theirs...but in a mirrored realm.

"Here's where y'can see some of what th' real world is like," he pointed out as they passed more such projectors. "If ya watch long enough, y'might be able t'see th' Projectionist walkin' around...but I don't wanna stick around that long, I don't think..."

"Naw, me neither," Betty agreed. "I've had my fill a' this place already. We should hurry an' find yer friends."

As if on cue, close by from somewhere in the labyrinthine passage, there was a sudden shrill scream. Boris took the lead and they started on a running pace toward it, through the flooded tunnels until they came upon an open space at the very back portion of the room. There were projectors sticking out every which way from a black mound in the center. Each of the projectors showed a different view of the various floors of the impostor Alice Angel's domain in the other world...

And upon the top of the mound, there sat a figure wrapped in projector cables, bound fast to the others around her while a final one sat on a stand nearby, connecting to her head through a white, faceless mask. She looked lifeless, drooping tiredly from her kneeling position, her expression obscured. If it weren't for the dimly-lit halo just above her head, and the sight of her gloves, nobody would have guessed that it was the true Alice Angel, freeing her voice in pained cries from her prison of cables.

Boris's ears drooped sadly as he took in the somber sight, now probably feeling what Betty must have felt when she first saw _him_. "Aw...Alice...no..."

"Me oh my...who in th' world would_ do_ something like this..." Betty murmured, taking a step or two forward. "How'd she get here…?"

The toon wolf gulped. "Prob'ly similar t' me...jus' put in a convenient place after th' Machine was done." He stepped up as well, to the base of the mound...close enough to touch her, but his gloved hand was quivering. "...Alice? Alice, can y' hear me? It's me...Boris...are ya okay?"

She didn't seem to hear him, or take notice of their presence in general. She was lost, her body frozen there while her senses were somewhere else. There was another very quiet sob let out from behind the mask.

He backed up and looked around frantically, taking in the cables that seemed to disappear into the ink and probably also connected to the various projectors. When he spoke, he sounded about ready to cry, himself. "We...we gotta get her outta here...somehow…"

Betty had stepped up to her as well, waving her hand in front of the mask or her ears to see if there was a response, and then just studied the projectors and watched what they were showing onto the bare walls around. Then, she had to quirk one of her eyebrows at the main projector next to the prone angel, which seemed to have no vision. "What's _this_ one for, I wonder..."

Boris took his attention away for a moment to also ponder that with a hum. "I dunno...but it's gotta be th' one that's keepin' her down here." He grimaced, and then raised his ax. "It has t' go."

"No, Boris, wait!" Betty raised her hands suddenly. "What if ya hurt her? Y'said she seemed ta be connected t' Susie's mind somehow...try cuttin' one a th' ones around her first."

He looked a little sheepish, looking between Betty and the main projector and back again, but eventually he nodded his agreement and chose one cable going from Alice and down to the ink. Bracing himself, he raised the weapon as high as it would go, and dropped it with as much force as he could muster.

_THUNK._

...But it was like the cable was made of strong rubber. There wasn't even a dent in it.

Confused, he scratched his head, and tried again…

_THUNK._

...Nothing. "What in th'…?"

Betty heard him trying over and over again, swinging the ax at several of the different threads. Humming, she decided to gently mess with the main projector, poking and prodding and looking for the off-switch. But there was none...it seemed to be running on nothing but ink and light.

"Susie..."

The toonette swiveled her head down to the captive angel, who was now murmuring something.

"Susie...I'm sorry...I can't...do this...I can't..."

Betty shook her head and tutted, wondering if she could just pull the mask off. "I think she's very much in a different place..."

Boris who was panting nearby, agreed in between breaths while he paused in his senseless, relentless chopping. "Yeah...bein' projected in th' real world in Susie's head...s'prob'ly what that main projector is. Her vision. It's gone now, though."

"Could be Susie's asleep," Betty guessed.

But, his head shook. "Th' ink creatures don't really sleep...don't need it, an' no sense a' time anyway. If we can't see through 'er eyes, then...Susie might've...died. Reclaimed by th' ink. Dunno how that could be though, but maybe that's why she screamed so loud..."

"Oh, dear...if she is...oh, poor girl..."

Boris took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Welp…if Susie ain't around...an' Alice is left...then she _can_ be saved. Which means I'm gonna _chop this thing t' BITS…!_" he growled, lunging at the large projector with the ax.

"No, wait, Boris…!"

But despite the fact that the machine looked as fragile and prone to falling over as any other...it didn't. It was like a stone against the ax's various blows.

"Yer gonna break th' ax, Boris, stop!" Betty cried. "It ain't no use! Th' Machine's ink is somehow too strong, nothin' from th' studio can break it."

The wolf, panting hard, growled again. He looked almost feral now, like he could go on all fours. "Then what _can?_"

"We havta stop, calm down, an' think," Betty reminded him as she paced the floor and held her chin in her hand. "Only thing I can think of that's broken th' hold of th' ink here is...mine."

Boris's ears perked back up. "Oh, right...yer bag, an' inkwell! I'd been so angry, I plum forgot!"

"Ooh, let's see what we got here..." Betty muttered as she took her bag again to open it up and search. After a few seconds, she lit up. "Aha!"

Then, to Boris's eternal fascination, she pulled a giant pair of scissors out of her tiny bag. "Here we go! Lemme try these on th' cords. If it works, we can prob'ly free 'er from that thing without destroyin' anything on th' other side."

"Wow...why on Earth could you always need t' carry _those_ around all the time?" he had to ask.

She just giggled and gave him a wink. "A girl should always be prepared. Now, stand back."

As he watched Betty wield the large pair of blades like it was no problem for her, the wolf simply placed his ax to the side and clasped his gloved hands together, as if in prayer. _Dunno if it'll reach ya from here, but please, PLEASE let this work..._

Gently, she let one of Alice's cords slip between the scissors, and...

_SNNNP._

The cord was sliced cleanly through, spilling ink through it onto the floor. Once it was, a projector nearby immediately snapped off, thus blinding Alice to the other world.

There was an immediate reaction from the bound angel, her body snapping up with a muffled gasp. "What...what was that...?" she murmured fearfully. "P-please...stop..."

Boris clasped his hands up to his mouth. "Betty, I think it's workin'! Do another one!"

"Already on it," the toonette answered, moving the blades to the next cord.

But then, all too quickly, there came another disturbance: the groan of a Searcher, followed by several more popping up around them, echoing the same call.

The wolf immediately grabbed his ax. "Dangit, I _knew_ this wouldn't be that easy!"

Seeing the ink creatures pop up, Betty almost withdrew the scissors. "W-what should we do?"

She heard the ax cleaving through one of the beasts, and looked up to see Boris rearing back for another blow. "You keep snippin', I'll keep these guys off ya! C'mon, hurry!"

"Oh, no problem!"

And so she did, trying to mow through the cords as quickly as a toon wielding a cumbersome pair of scissors could go, while Boris nearby was grunting with the effort of keeping a seemingly-endless army of creatures down. One by one, each of the projectors showing the other side clicked off, and with each picture falling into darkness, the angel was writhing...whether from pain, or panic, or the ever-loosening sensation of her bonds, it was hard to tell...but she was starting to fight as well.

Finally, the last cord was snapped, and the angel nearly toppled over from the mound as she slowly, but surely, started to get her arms free of the wrappings. "Nngh...stop...help...please...Susie...!" she called in a tired, stressed voice, in her mind reaching for the one she thought could still be there. The one she tried to help once, and so many times since...

_And made me do such terrible things..._

"Grrr!" Boris growled from nearby with another Searcher felled. "I can't...keep these things down...much longer! Betty, is she free?"

"Almost!" she called out reassuringly, dragging the scissors as she stepped up in front of a very shaken Alice Angel. "Just need t' get this mask off!" Betty placed her fingers along the seams and pulled, but it seemed very stuck on. "C'mon, you can do it..."

"Betty, y'better hurry up, I can't...AH!" he suddenly shouted as his ax swung wildly, this time missing the head of a Searcher as it pounced him...followed by another, and another, each one grabbing and trying to weigh him down, pulling into the cursed ink...

The toonette looked up from her work with a gasp. "Oh, no, Boris! Dear oh dear, think, Betty, think...!"

Boris was calling out to her as he was being dragged ever downward into darkness, and Alice was very nearly free, but exhaustively pulling on her bonds. The mask still didn't seem to want to come off...so, with a harsh exhale, Betty took the scissors and swung them around like a sword, straight into the main projector.

Instantly, the thing fell heavily from its stand and crashed into the mound beside them, casting light on many of the Searchers in its wake and surprising them enough to make them back off.

There were still a few though who had about taken Boris down with them, and so Betty had instantly rushed up to snatch his wrist with her hands and pull him back. "Oh, no ya don't...!" the woman grunted. "Let...go!"

"Betty, please...!" the wolf sputtered out in a whimpered plea, "Don't you get dragged down too! They're too strong! Just lemme go, I'll be fine, I'll find a way out again somehow...!"

"I don't abandon my friends, I ain't about to start now!" Betty reassured and tugged harder, digging in her heels. "C'mon, shake yerself free!"

"I...I don't think I can...!"

"You _can_, kick yer feet, c'mon...!"

The tug-of-war seemed to be evenly-matched, but even now the Searchers were starting to regroup...they would both be taken into the Machine's inky abyss at this rate...

Until suddenly, a new voice rang out in the room, followed by what seemed like a flash of light.

"Get...OUTTA HERE!"

As if they were commanded, the Searchers did indeed give up their hold and the chase, and fled back into the inky space from which they came. With one last tug, Betty practically whipped Boris out from the brink of his close demise, and together they tumbled back against the mound, just trying to catch their breath. The light from all of the projectors had faded, leaving the bright golden lights above and around them as the only source in the dingy underground pools.

"Now that..._that_ was more of a workout than I needed," Betty said as she wiped her forehead of any gathered sweat and patted Boris on the shoulder as he got back up on his knees. "Y' alright there? Anythin' broken?"

The wolf gulped and took another breath before shaking his head. "Nah...thanks a lot, Betty...ya saved me again. Remind me t' put in fer a life a' servitude when we get out."

"Oh pish," Betty giggled. "Ain't nothin' ya owe me. An' actually...I don't think I did th' savin' this time."

With that, they both realized just who might be out of their bind, and looked up to see Alice Angel doubled over on her own hands and knees, trying hard to stay upright. Her halo light was dim, but steady, and her hair was pretty much all over the place. The mask that had obscured her features had been torn in half, revealing a lopsided Alice Angel mask, akin to the Bendy mask that another certain ink person had worn. Boris thought that perhaps it was simply used as a cruel irony of her situation.

"Oh...golly..." the angel coughed out and looked up with a pair of tired and blinking pie-cut eyes. "What...what happened...where am I...?"

Boris's heart jumped back into his chest with relief upon seeing her, and he immediately got up, also helping Betty with him before he leaped to the mound and leaned down to touch the other toonette's shoulder. "Alice...yer back...it's me, Boris. Remember?"

"Boris...?" she echoed, blinking again as if trying to regain the focus in her vision, before her eyes went wide and she gasped, tears forming in her eyes. "Boris! It _is_ you! You're...you're okay...!"

"'Course I am!" the wolf smiled. "Y'know me, I can bounce back from anythin'. I'm just glad _you're_ okay now!" he exclaimed and took the tired girl into a tight hug. "Yer free from that thing, safe n' sound...!"

Alice couldn't help but giggle as she was swept into her friend's embrace, letting the tears flow. "I...I _think_ I'm okay, yeah...I feel drowsy though...like I woke up from a long nap..."

"Heh, y'pretty much did..." Boris answered, glancing over at the broken projector lying nearby, and at all the other ones that surrounded her like a personal theater. "I got so much t' tell ya, an' t' ask ya..."

"So do I...but for Heaven's sakes...maybe we can do it after a little bit of rest...? This little angel's...pretty out of it, much as I hate to admit."

"Heheh...yeah, I imagine so...I'd like t' get outta here too, b'fore them nasty Searchers think t' come back fer us."

Nearby, Betty watched the friends' reunion with a happy sigh. The day's exhaustion was forgotten upon feeling a sense of accomplishment for helping another toon out of a very scary moment..._too_ scary now, in fact, if she were to stop and think about it. She went to gather the over-sized scissors back up before going to join the two, waiting politely to be introduced.

Boris stood and managed to help Alice to her feet as well, letting her get her strength back. Despite how _utterly_ mentally taxed she was, she did at least manage to pop some wrinkles out of her dress and wipe off some remaining ink. She looked up and met her friend's eyes with a smile, and then met Betty's with a tilted head. "Oh? Who's your new friend?"

The wolf chuckled. "Y'don't recognize her? She wandered into this place an' actually helped me outta my own prison...an' she just cut ya outta yours, too. She wants t' help us outta here. _All_ of us. Betty, meet th' one an' only Alice Angel...Alice, th' one an' only Betty Boop."

It took a second for the name to register in her mind, but when it did, Alice's hands flew to her mouth in shock. "I don't believe it! _The_ Betty Boop! I can't believe I didn't recognize you...you were my idol, starting out!" She did a little curtsy. "Very pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Oh! Th' pleasure's all mine, dear!" Betty did her own little curtsy back. "I wish I could've gotten t' know all a' you kids of Joey Drew Studios, back in th' day. Always love meetin' new toons."

"Yes, well..." Alice's friendly look dropped slightly into a sad one, as her memories started trickling back. "The good old days weren't really...always so good. Oof..." one of her gloved hands went to her forehead to cradle it. "I'm sorry...I can't really...think straight right now. All this horrible ink..."

"It's okay, Alice..." Boris took her gently by the shoulders. "We should be gettin' you to a safe place t' rest. Hmm...we could prob'ly climb back up th' elevator cables...if we can avoid th' Ink Demon, we oughta get back up to th' safe house. Then we can talk some more."

Betty hummed. "Didn't th' Butcher Gang say there was also a door here somewhere t' go through?"

"Yeah, but they also said they never got through it...th' ink ocean blocked it," Boris pointed out.

Alice listened to this and giggled. "Well...we could just take the elevator."

The other two stopped to look at her, blinking. "Er...I thought ya destroyed th' elevator? Long time ago, t'keep anybody else from gettin' in th' Ink Machine?" Boris reminded her.

The angel sifted through her memories for a second, and then giggled and waved her hand. "Oh, that...I had some of the Searchers fix it up again after a while...when I didn't think anyone _would_ be able to use it. It's good as new; looked too dingy to be left there. Although, probably should also have them fix the cages on some of the floors..."

Boris's mouth hung agape at this new information, then he slapped his forehead. "Great, we could've taken a second t' _test_ th' elevator b'fore fallin' down th' cables..."

Betty couldn't help but give a hearty laugh. "Well, I hafta say, that's real convenient! Let's get a move on."

"Yeah...let's," the wolf nodded with a hum, giving Alice a playful quirk of an eyebrow. "An' once we're back safe an' you've eaten somethin', yer gonna tell us how _exactly_ you can _ask_ a Searcher t' do anything."

The angel giggled timidly. "Sorry. I've...ah...got some 'splainin' to do, I guess you could put it."

The return trip back to the safe house past Heavenly Toys was quite a bit easier from there on in, at least after getting out of the squished elevator cage on Level K, much to the girls' amusement and Boris's slight chagrin ("Oh _dangit, _now I need new pants!").

But, he could never be too mad at that moment. After all...he had one of his friends back.

It was time now to think about the other one.


	4. Chapter 4

((AN: New chapter time! Wherein our trio of friends continue on their search for answers, and seek to find them in another unlikely group of ink creatures...and more surprises just keep cropping up.

I again want to thank those people who have commented and watched the story; does a writer's heart good, so don't be shy to also say what you think about this one. ^^ It was fun to write, especially while thinking up the best way to outline the studio's structure. I'd really love an official map of the place and where everything is, pertaining to the levels, but I think I have an idea down. x3

Also, if anyone asks why the gang doesn't visit the inside of the Bendyland warehouse, well...there wouldn't be anything to find in there, really, thinking of it. x3 They may visit it later if I need a fun filler scene, but the story may only go on for a couple more chapters.

That said, enjoy! :3))

* * *

Chapter 4

"Golly...so much has happened...where do I even start?"

Betty gave Alice a sad little look from next to her at the table, watching her put her fingers up to her forehead and massage it, willing the memories back; it was hard to think about how the girl could be feeling at that moment, even with a little bit of rest and relief from the nightmarish atmosphere outside of the safe house.

Nearby, Boris (in a new pair of suspenders) was cooking up another batch of soup, and Betty was searching around in her bag for another sandwich to share. This time, they were egg salad. "Well, yer friend gave me some of th' story of your studio and how you came t' be here in th' first place...so just start from where you disappeared. An' here," she handed over the wrapped food item, "Have yerself somethin' t' eat."

A tiny smile graced Alice's lips. "You're really too kind, Miss Boop...thank you for all this."

"Hey," she wagged a finger, "Like I told Boris, y'just call me Betty."

Alice had to giggle. "Yes, ma'am. Well then, let's see...when I disappeared...last thing I remember was telling Boris to run. I guess I got myself into a little trouble...and I didn't want to take him with me."

"A _little_ trouble?" Boris interjected while he stirred the pot. "You were practically hellbent on gettin' Susie outta th' Ink Machine...an' ya were crossed over!"

"Boris, honey, just make sure th' soup doesn't burn, let 'er explain," interjected Betty with a calmer tone of voice.

"Alright, alright..."

The angel let out a long-suffering sigh, still massaging her temples. "Yes...something I _now_ understand was very...stupid of me. I just felt so bad...Susie was there in the Machine, having been turned into a being of ink...she looked so helpless and defeated. When I was able to reach inside and touch her, it seemed like it would work...then the Ink Demon showed up."

A cold chill ran down her body, and she held her shoulders for a minute. "He tore us both through, me and Susie. My mind was _there_, my body _here._ Next thing I knew, I couldn't move. I could only see through her eyes when she reformed...and she was...gone. Nothing remained but pain, betrayal...which she took out on countless others, regardless of whether they were human; rebuilding herself in vain." Her eyes welled with tears as they locked with the wolf. "Boris...I really thought we...she...destroyed you. I'm so sorry."

After a pause in which he regarded her sadly, he shook his head. "Y'didn't, though. It ain't your fault. Y'were a victim, like me. Like everyone. An'...like Bendy."

At the name, Alice gave another shiver and looked down...Betty couldn't tell whether she wanted to cry or cower, or both...but she knew that the angel was _very_ uncomfortable.

She reached over and patted her gloved hand. "So, what exactly happened t' stop ya seein' Susie's side? We heard a scream when we got down there..."

Alice's eyes squinted. "I'm...not too sure. It feels like it all was a dream by now, really, trying to recall these memories. But sure as I'm here sitting, they _have _to be real. Susie was...angry, running at _someone_, dunno who, but she was ready to tear them to pieces...then the next thing we know, there's a _blade_ sticking out of our..._her_ chest...and we fell...and she was gone."

Betty gave a little gasp, and she exchanged a glance with Boris. "So...she _is_ dead."

"Or her consciousness is floating around in the ink, waiting for a new body from the Machine," Alice sighed. "Either way...she's too far gone...sad as it is for me to admit. An angel couldn't help this time."

"Angel 'r not, yer a toon," Boris pointed out. "We have _some_ limits."

Betty nodded her agreement. "Yeah, honey, don'tcha fret. If we can't help th' people, we gotta help th' toons."

The angel weakly nodded, letting a small smile of humor tug her lip. "You said you even saved the _Butcher Gang?_"

Boris laughed. "Yeh, they kinda stumbled onto this place themselves, th' rascals."

"They told us where you were, at least," Betty offered. "An' by now they oughta be outta here. Last one to find now is yer star, Bendy."

Boris cooled the oven down and spooned three bowls of hearty bacon soup, and carried them as expertly as a tall waiter would on his arms to the ladies. He gave what he hoped was a cheerful smile to Alice as he set her bowl down, and took his place opposite her, to Betty's left. "An' that's where we were hopin' _you'd_ help...but I'm reckonin' that you didn't see Bendy anywhere yerself, huh?"

Alice tried not to get even sadder than she was, having to think about her little demon co-star. She took a few bites of the soup (with everyone patiently following suit) and a large bite of her sandwich, before shaking her head. "No...I didn't. I thought that I could _feel_ him somewhere in the Ink Demon when we encountered him at first, but...Susie didn't want any part of it when I asked about him. Now I'm too unsure that Bendy's even anywhere, or is even _himself._"

The wolf lowered his ears, looking dejected. "He's gotta be _somewhere_. Even if he _does_ turn out t' be th' Ink Demon. We'll find a way t' get him out. Betty got _me_ out...we got _you_ out...there's hope fer Bendy, there _has_ t' be."

After a long pause, Alice nodded slowly. "Well...I won't say I'd ever give up on a friend. We came here before looking for him. Can't just leave now, can we?"

"Nothin' doin'," Boris said while letting his fist fall to the table. "Like I said: we _all_ get out."

Alice huffed. "And if we _do_ all get out, though? Our time is over. We're...defunct."

"That's why _I'm_ here, kid," Betty said with a smile and a wink. "I wanna give th' defunct toons a new start. Make people remember. It could've been just as easy fer _me_ t' be forgotten. Guess it's a blessin' I didn't. Gotta share th' blessin', ain't that right, angel?"

The other toonette giggled. "You'd make a better angel than me, Betty."

"Eh, I dunno about that," Betty waved off. "Unless there's somewhere y' can buy one a' those halos."

"Standard issue, I'm afraid," Alice laughed back and primly adjusted the glowing ring, letting the other two have a giggle as well. "But yes...I _will_ help. I'll go with you two, if it means ending all of this, finally."

Things soon quieted, the conversation put aside in order to actually have a meal. But, Betty never did like it when conversations seemed to have a heavy weight to them; especially when Alice's face fell once more into a thoughtful stare. Boris barely noticed, his face practically tucked into his meal and all but swallowing it whole.

After sipping another spoonful, Betty tried for another conversation, curiously tilting her head. "So tell me, Alice, what's Bendy really like? I keep seein' th' name on th' posters, but is he _really_ some sorta devil?"

The angel paused for a second before giving another small smile, daintily wiping her lip with a napkin. "Well, yes, actually...he's a small demon. But, don't be fooled by that...I don't believe he was ever created to be evil or dark in any capacity. Heh, it hardly makes sense, come to think of it..."

"Honey," Betty interrupted with a laugh, "I come from a world where animals walk n' talk like th' rest of th' people, an' nobody ever bats an eye," she gave Boris a little pat in demonstration (to which he gives a little grin through a pause in his chewing). "The absurdity's what's funny about it. Trust me, I understand. But do go on!"

"Right," Alice chuckled. "Well, anyway, at most he's just a little mischievous...almost like a child...and prone to getting in trouble. But otherwise, if you've seen any of his cartoons, you'd wonder how someone like him could've ever come from Hell. He's fun-loving, innocent, and...sweet, really. A real cutie all 'round."

"Ooh, really?" Betty leaned in with a little grin; she _definitely_ caught the tiny lilt in her tone of voice. "So, were ya meant t' be his girl, Alice Angel?"

"Oh! Well...!" she suddenly waved her hand while she hid a little tinge of gray blushing. "I...I don't really think that was the original plan, no...I was mostly there to add a little more chaos to his life, like Boris was before...a rival, playing the angel to the devil, and all."

Alice let out a thoughtful sigh, letting better, more fun times dance themselves through her mind. "It never got further than that, really...especially as I was supposed to get my own show...but then, my popularity just...plummeted...and then the studio failed. But," she shyly blinked, "To be honest, I really did start to like him a bit later on." She sighed. "I guess he didn't mind having me around, but...hard to know now if he'd have liked me too. I never did tell him."

Betty gave a little hum of thought, recalling the last time they saw the Ink Demon...staring—one would almost say wistfully—at a semblance of Alice. Surely the little creature that she described was still in there somewhere, in some part, remembering...and hoping.

She gave Alice a comforting pat on the arm. "Aw, y'know what, I'll just betcha he does. We'll just hafta find him, and you'll see."

"And we _will_ find 'im," Boris said after gulping the last of his food down. "Can't wait t' see th' look on his face either, when he sees _you're_ free," he teased.

Betty had to laugh at the blush that once again crossed the angel's face as she hissed his name defiantly. The famous toonette playfully ribbed the wolf with her elbow. "Heehee, and you ain't th' least bit jealous, Boris?"

"Wha, _me_?" he practically sputtered. "Aw, c'mon...I love Alice, yeah, but as more of a sister. B'sides, her an' Bendy, I think that's much cuter. Demon n' Angel, s'like peanut butter n' chocolate. Great together, but y'never know it 'til ya see it." His brow furrowed. "Or maybe s'more like chocolate n' marshmallas...Bendy's more a marshmalla...I got it!" He snapped. "You two are s'mores! Lovey-dovey s'mores," he clasped his gloves together and batted his eyes.

"Oh, now stop embarrassing me," Alice giggled with a hidden snort and gave the wolf a bit of a quirked eyebrow. "I hafta say though, Boris, you've definitely changed quite a bit since I last saw you. You're a bit more serious...you pay attention more than you eat..._and_ you ain't afraid to fight!"

"Yeah, well..." he gave a shy chuckle. "This place...changes ya some. Probably not fer th' better...but I know I'm more determined nowadays. Hopefully, when we all get back, we can start livin' our lives like we used to again."

The angel gave a little nod, her smile a little more hopeful now indeed...but for certain, there were still plenty of regrets in her eyes. "Yeah...I'd like that too."

Although she'd had enough to eat, it was clear to see that Alice was more than exhausted after the meal; the same went for all the toons, really. So, with a check to make sure the doors were locked, they started to settle in for a nap, with Boris insisting that the girls take the room with the cot and hammock; he could easily sleep anywhere, especially on a comfy chair with his feet on the table.

It was a fitful sleep for the angel, who took the hammock; she was afraid of waking up and being elsewhere, like all of this fortune was just another dream. Thankfully, Betty calmed her nerves by having them exchange stories from their respective cartoons until they were too exhausted to speak, and the unnerving quiet was broken with a sleepy Boris strumming on a banjo to the tunes playing on the record, just in the next room...for him, it was also a relaxing moment that he didn't know he needed until then.

Instead of nightmares, Alice had dreams of being back again, with Boris—and with Bendy—like nothing had ever happened.

* * *

Once they had their rest, the first thing that Boris and Betty noticed upon waking was that Alice wasn't anywhere inside of the safe house.

Boris had immediately jumped awake, and was searching every nook and cranny from top to bottom, throwing things of all kinds from old toys to empty soup cans to the side. It was Betty who pointed out that the door was just slightly ajar; and just outside, Alice stood in a nonchalant manner, speaking to what appeared to be a giant glob of black with a hard hat on.

Her two friends decidedly stood back in the threshold, and the wolf noticed that Betty was poking around in her bag for her frying pan with a glare.

He stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. "I don't think she's in danger. That there's what we call a Swollen Searcher; fer some reason they're full a' extra ink, an' they move slow, so they don't attack. I think those ones were actually people too, at some point."

Betty blinked and replaced the pan, her other hand to her mouth. "Oh, dear...thanks fer tellin' me, I don't wanna bop any _person_ on th' head...wonder what he's here for though."

"We wait t' ask Alice, I guess."

They didn't have to wait long at all; after a few seconds, the large Searcher disappeared into a pool of bubbling ink on the floor, hat and all, with Alice waving. "Oh, thank you very much!" she politely called after him.

Boris then took the initiative to step outside with his arms crossed. "Good mornin'...mind tellin' us what that was about?"

"Oh!" Alice practically jumped upon hearing his voice. She definitely looked more awake and alert than she had been several hours ago, with a brighter halo and her medium-length hair done up a bit more neatly. "Land sakes, Boris, don't scare me like that, I'm still jumpy," she giggled. "That was just one of the Searchers I had working on the elevator. The cages on all the floors should be fixed now. We can go anywhere we want."

"Oh that's very good," Betty nodded. "Best that none of us hafta get anythin'...like their pants...caught in th' bars like last time."

Boris snorted with a good-natured smile and rolled his eyes. "Yeah...but again, _how_ are ya able t' speak to 'em?"

Alice sighed and twirled a strand of hair. "Well...to tell the truth I can only guess, myself. Susie was always complaining about them...the big ones, anyway...but she had a few smaller ones around as guards...and I guess I picked up being able to command them. Whenever I could find a trickle of sensation, away from _her_ mind, I'd talk to them, and they'd listen. That's how I had them fix the elevator." She chuckled shyly. "I hope that's not too strange. At least with me around, we won't have as much trouble."

"Yeah," Boris hummed with thought, stroking his chin. "You _did_ also seem to get rid a' th' ones goin' after us before, with yer halo light."

"They like darkness better, yeah...plus somehow I can just...ward them off." Her head tilted. "You know the Little Miracle Stations back on the other side?"

"Mm-hm?"

"My doing," she gave a proud grin. "At least, through Susie, when she painted the wards on the door. One could hide from the Searchers, the Butchers, the Projectionist...and of course, the Ink Demon."

Betty gave a little shudder. "Ooh...wish we kinda had those around here, now, whatever they are."

"Hidey-holes, basically; they look like them confessionality booths, or holy outhouses..."

"Boris," Alice snorted at that. "To the point, please."

"Okay, okay...anyway, s'how I could escape th' Ink Demon on th' other side," he informed. "Here though...we'll have worse luck."

Alice's eyes then widened, and her expression fell into uncertainty. "I forgot...he can cross over."

Boris sighed and crossed his arms. "Well...we'll hafta run inta him eventually. Fer now, we make sure we're outta his sight. He went after us th' last time he caught us...funny thing though, he didn't follow us down into yer prison."

Alice shook her head and held her upper arms uncomfortably as she shuffled past them, back into the safe house. "I wanna say that's because he may have put me there. And _you_ where you were, when you were thrown back. He can control the ink in this place, from the Machine...and walk the black void inside it. He's a real mystery, and a volatile one. But if Bendy's somehow involved with him..."

"Look," Boris took her hand and squeezed it, "We'll cross that bridge whenever we get there. Fer now, I guess we'll just worry about th' Searchers."

Alice willed away all thoughts of Bendy for the moment; if she was going to help, she needed to stop being sad. "Speaking of which...you two should still keep your weapons handy. I can keep most Searchers at bay, but there are many that are too stubborn and will resist, and fight to take us back into the ink. Not to mention the Lost Ones...thanks to Susie, they hate angels...so I can't say I've ever tried speaking with _them_."

"Lost Ones?" Betty and Boris echoed at the same time.

Alice turned to them with a quirked eyebrow. "Boris, you've never seen them? Another type of ink person...they live all over down on Level S and down past into the old administration offices...on the other side, really, but they've been slowly crossing over here, too."

The wolf raised his hands and shook his head furiously. "Nope, I never seen 'em...I only spent a little time on Level S while goin' round, enough ta feel like crawlin' outta my skin...never knew why."

"What're _they_ like?" Betty asked, ever curious.

The angel gave a sad expression, hanging her head as she sat down again. "They were all people, once. Everyone that Joey Drew could get his hands on to make into a toon...failed. Made completely of ink and souls. Many can still speak. Some have their memories, and their names. Others are in pain for reasons they don't know. They've made a little civilization for themselves, far down into the deepest recesses of the studio." She sniffed a little. "It hurts just to think about them. They respect and fear the Ink Demon...and outright feared me..._us_. Susie." She started to massage her aching head. "They only ever answered to Sammy Lawrence, back there. But I think he was sent back to the ink a good while ago..."

Boris's ears lowered. "Well, gee...makes me wish I could've seen 'em too...an' at th' same time, prob'ly would be too sad."

Betty nodded. "I kinda _would_ like to see 'em...actually, you said they were crossin' over, too?"

"Indeed," Alice nodded. "I kinda let them...I think maybe they could find better lives, even in the forgotten parts of Toon World. They'd fit in better, anyway, and it's the least I could do. It's so pitiful for them otherwise." Her expression brightened a little then, as a thought came to her. "Maybe...maybe we _could_ talk to them now."

Betty's eyes widened, while Boris's narrowed. "What makes ya think that?" he wondered.

"They know the depths like nobody else. Some have even been everywhere down in _this_ world. Maybe...maybe they could even have an idea of how to help Bendy. It's worth a try."

"I agree," Betty nodded, slapping the side of her fist down on her palm, a decisive gesture. "It really sounds like they might have somethin' fer us."

Boris groaned. "Betty, y'really _do_ like t' jump inta things. What if th' Lost Ones end up bein' hostile?"

"We won't know until we try," the toonette said with finality. "It's just like y' said. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Alice hummed. "I'm about as cautious as Boris on this one...I don't know how they'd treat _me._ But, on the other hand...I really want to check up on them, too." She adjusted her halo. "'Bout time I started showing them how a real angel acts."

The wolf tilted his head and chuckled. "Lookit you, Miss Take-Charge. Your life used t' only be about performin'. Now yer a lot stronger too."

She could only shyly giggle. "The determination you were talking about is contagious, I suppose. I'll be happier once I can perform again though, no worries and regrets."

"Love ta see you all on stage someday," Betty cut in with an excited smile. "But, fer now...looks like we have a new direction t' go."

With a groan, Boris already went to make sure he had everything he wanted to bring. "Ayup...and away we go, back t' Hell."

"Appropriately enough, to find a demon," Alice quipped.

* * *

Level S had an indescribable sort of quiet to it, once the elevator made its cheerful little _ding_ that told the trio they had arrived. On the way, things had felt incredibly tense; once again they were ready and waiting to walk into trouble...and the one question that hung in the air, concerning the Ink Demon and what they would do if he appeared once again, went unanswered. The ride was thus slow, harrowing, a drop further into depths that _nobody_ had a right to be in.

Boris stepped out first, brandishing his trusty ax, while Betty kept a hand on her frying pan. Alice felt that she needed no weapon (much to Boris's eternal arguments) and simply stayed close as they crept quietly through the hallway and into a break in the path.

"Th' start of th' administration offices," Boris hummed as he read the signs. "Personal floor fer th' bosses."

"Sheesh," Betty shook her head, "In all my days, I ain't seen any studios that built things _down_ instead of _up_."

"Joey was strange like that," Alice nodded. "I always figured it was a metaphor for Hell, that the further you go, the more important—or worse—the surroundings. He kept an office at the very bottom."

"Or he jus' had a lot t' hide," Boris huffed. "Y'get lots a' places t' hide underground, especially if ya build through th' ground itself. No such luck in a tall building, with walls n' stuff, pennin' ya in like sheep."

Alice had to giggle a little. "That's a very deep thought for you, Boris."

He shrugged and stuck his tongue out. "Well, it makes sense."

"I kinda prefer his explanation," Betty agreed. "_And_ when it comes t' Hell, I prefer th' toons' versions. Much more dramatic and silly. And snazzy."

"Meanwhile, Heaven gets to look too orderly and boring," Alice observed with a shrug. "Whatcha gonna do, I guess."

The small talk was limited to quiet, quick whispers as soon as they decided to check out the archives. Boris tried to strong-arm the valve-wheel-locked door into opening, but it took all three toons pulling to finally make the old thing budge. Inside, once a switch was flipped, the lights burst into bright flickering, centering upon a rather impressive rotunda of shelves and safes, carrying an eternity of notes, scripts, storyboards, and reels.

"Oh, my goodness..." Betty marveled as she and Alice followed Boris along to the inside of the rotunda, where there sat a study table like one would find in a library. "This thing could rival any sorta archives back at _my_ studio."

Alice smiled a little as she ran her gloved fingers over the spines of various books on the shelf. "So many good memories; at least they were kept in good condition." She stopped and pulled out a book with a picture of Bendy on the cover; it was an art book, a look behind the scenes of the animators' works. She flipped through some of the pages and saw early concepts of herself and Boris as well. "If only we could go back in time."

"Thankfully, time can be preserved up top," Betty said with a smile. "You'll see when we get outta here. Singin' an' dancin' again in no time."

"Yes," Alice sighed sadly and closed the book. "But for whom?"

Betty's brow furrowed. "Now that's no way to act. Y'gotta have some hope...b'sides, if y'do any singin', do it fer yourself, if nobody else. If it makes ya happy, then sing! Dance! Be what you were made to be! Audience or none."

Alice looked up, glancing sidelong at Betty as the book was gently slid back into place. She wanted to say that it was easy for _her_ of all toons to say...her memory was practically immortalized; she didn't know what it was like not to have an audience. Not to stop hearing the laughter and cheering.

Not to be shooed off the stage before the performance ever began.

But...Alice couldn't say those words. Otherwise, it would be as if she never left the prison of Susie's mind. She'd let hopelessness consume her. Besides...Betty's optimism was just as contagious as Boris's determination.

"I sure would like t' hear ya sing again," the wolf then said with an uplifting smile. "An' I think Bendy would too."

Alice felt tears behind her eyes again. If there was one thing she _could_ remember vividly from the past, it was the eternal grin on the little demon's face when he _did_ listen to her singing. "Y'know, he just might," the angel said, with a bit of sincerity in the words. _Start trying to be happy with them, Alice Angel. If FOR them._

Betty gave a little sigh and clapped her hands, willing the conversation into more lighthearted (or at least productive) directions. "Now! Where're we goin'? Through th' offices or th' archives?"

"Mm..." Boris laid his chin in his palm. "There's a path through th' offices; it'll take us all th' way down. But th' archives have a secret door, an' paths that are very outta th' way...Alice," he looked up, "I don't imagine th' Lost Ones like to wander in th' open very much."

The angel's head shook. "No, not really...not in the real world, anyway. They'd still be very secretive when getting used to this side...especially if the Ink Demon's still lurking. They only stick to the archives, the warehouses, the R&D departments...and of course, their little shanty town, at the flooded caves. Built using so many things they grabbed from the studio's ruins. It's rather cute. But well-protected...we hadn't seen much of it at all before."

"Well, it's them we're gonna meet..." Betty pointed out. "If we wanna make a good first impression, we might as well make ourselves known right away."

"Archive tunnel it is," Boris announced, taking a deep breath to steel himself for the journey further ahead. "Eh...didn't really wanna try t' go through th' offices again anyway. Bad memories, runnin' from th' Ink Machine. Better stay close, ladies."

"Agreed," Alice added, deciding to hang onto Boris's left arm for a little bit of the trip. "On all points."

It was still hard to pinpoint where the unsettling feeling was coming from, as they opened the secret back door into the cavernous depths and roads of suspended mining carts, and tried to pick a path to follow. But little did they know that already, they were being watched by a good few sets of wary eyes.

* * *

"...I swear, this place is more confusin' than tryin' ta navigate Crazy Town," Betty observed, looking around outside of the little suspended cart that they'd taken to cross an endless black chasm. Unlike back in the other studio, there were quite a few more of them around, most likely a little transport system built by the Lost Ones that took them to various parts of the level.

After looking around, it was Alice who picked the car, which was taking them to another portion of the studio proper.

"There really should be a map," the angel agreed. She was at the proverbial helm of the cart, keeping her eyes peeled like a lookout from a crow's nest as their destination crept closer. "Thankfully—or not, depending—I know this place inside and out. Susie's influence stretched everywhere."

"All the more happy that we gotcha freed, then," Boris said with a reassuring little pat to her back. "Maybe we can make a map later. If we survive, that is..."

"Just keep up yer pep, Boris," Betty practically commanded with a waving finger. "We'll make it."

"Aye-aye, ma'am," he replied with an over-the-top salute, which had to make even Alice chuckle.

Finally, the cart stopped to allow them off onto a rocky little outcrop that served as a welcome mat to the entrance of the warehouses.

As Boris ran ahead to get the door open for the girls, Alice raised a hand. "Be careful going in, Boris, the beams in these halls can be a bit on the..."

_THUNK. _"Owww…." _Plop._

"...Low side."

Betty quickly trotted up to the fallen wolf as he sat up slowly, shaking her head and tutting him. "And you say _I_ like t' rush in."

"I was jus' checkin' th' door," he slurred, his head spinning. "S'fine, everythin's fine...ooh, pretty stars," he murmured as the girls helped him up again.

"A toon through and through," Alice giggled. "Glad to see that hasn't changed."

"Told ya there was hope, hon," Betty retorted with a wink.

Once Boris shook off his dizzy spell (and the stars he saw), he took the lead down through a broken corridor and up a grand, spiraling set of wooden stairs. Along the path was a slew of different cartoon posters, some the same as the ones Betty had first seen coming into the studio, and some that looked like they were advertising new shorts. To the side, from behind the safety of a banister, they looked down into another deep pit with a long chain going through from the ceiling. Betty could swear that she heard rhythmic pumping if she listened hard enough. She pointed. "Say, that wouldn't happen t' lead to th..."

"Ink Machine? Yeah," Boris supplied, nodding grimly.

"It was quite an attraction to warrant its own walk-around," Alice added. "At least...the part that supplied the ink. The _real_ Machine, which housed and trapped its victims, lies at the very bottom."

"...Oh dear me..." Betty shuddered. "I really, really, _really_ do not like how it feels to be anywhere near that thing."

"Unfortunately, it's hard to escape," Alice sighed, suppressing a shiver of her own, holding herself like she were cold. "I'd give anything to know how to turn it off. Anyway," she pointed, "This door leads to what used to be a sort of VIP meeting lounge..._now_, it's used as a meeting area by the Lost Ones...maybe we'll find some of them here."

Betty stepped up. "So...do we just knock?"

Boris hummed quietly. "Try it; maybe we can use th' knob if nobody answers."

"Would be a rude thing t' do, just barge in...it pays to be courteous." With that, the toonette went first, raising her hand for a gentle but audible knocking pattern.

The sound seemed to echo. But there was no answer.

She tried again. "Hello? Excuse us, but is anyone here? We'd like t' talk."

And again, nothing.

"Maybe they're not home," Alice supplied. "Though, if they saw us come in somehow, they might just be hiding from us. Or from _me_, rather."

"I'm tryin' th' door," said Boris, and without a second for his friends to make an objection, the knob was turned; surprisingly for it to be unlocked, and thus able to open without a hitch.

He pushed it inward through the threshold, to come upon a cozy-looking room with a couple of sofas and a few chairs, and a table with a tea set. There was a balcony set above another closed door at the head of the room, making it look like a stage for anyone addressing the parties below.

"Oh, please keep that ax lowered, Boris," Alice chided him quietly, her hand insistently holding onto his arm. "We don't want to give the impression we're here for trouble."

"I know, I know...I just wanna be prepared," he assured. "Let's let Betty talk 'em out. She's good at that."

Seeing that as her cue, Betty tried again, stepping to the center of the room and calling out, while adding a little bit of flirty posing to her stance. "Hello? Any inky pals here? I'm visitin', and would appreciate some assistance gettin' around!"

They waited for a moment...but still, nothing answered.

"Hmph," Betty sighed. "What's a girl gotta do nowadays t' get some help…?"

Alice had her lip quirked up with amusement, but she frowned the instant she heard the telltale _pop_ of a few ink puddles nearby. "...Something doesn't seem right..."

Boris _certainly_ hadn't missed that sound. Ears perked, he once again raised the ax. "Betty, we got trouble!"

And trouble came as instantly as it was heard: several bubbling ink puddles bearing not Lost Ones, but regular Searchers, all crawling from wherever their hovel could possibly be and training their expressionless, gaping faces to the disturbance in their home.

"Ooh, I didn't mean _that_ kinda help!" Betty yelped as she hopped back toward Alice and Boris, and all three of them were soon surrounded by the creatures.

Alice tried to count however many there were around them (at least the ones that she could see,) and grunted with frustration. "They must have decided to send out their attack dogs instead."

"Just peachy," Boris replied as he swung the ax to block a blow from one of the creatures. Their groaning sounds were getting a little too loud now for them to hear each other. "What're we gonna do now?"

"Well, we certainly can't give up...!" said Betty as the _clang _of her pan could be heard from the impact of another Searcher's head. "They could still be around..."

While Boris and Betty argued, Alice was just about having enough of the commotion, and held her hands outward, halo glowing brightly. "_Get away from us!_" she commanded.

Almost immediately, the Searchers did as told, and stopped ganging up on the group to fall back—rather literally—into their side of the inky void.

"...Huh. Works just like ya said," Boris said, glancing at the angel with a bit of a grin.

Alice had to chuckle back, hands on her hips. "Well, you ever known me to lie, sweetie?"

"Well, there _was_ the time when..."

"_Other_ than that."

"...Then nope."

Betty let out a little giggle, and wiped her brow off. But, just as the group was taking a collective breath of relief, there came another, panicked male voice from somewhere up in the stage setting.

"_ANGEL!_ It's the angel!"

And at that, through the doors upon the balcony and the ones both behind and in front, shambled a large mass of ink creatures. This time, they looked much more human, with eternally-sullen-looking eyes that glowed yellow and emaciated, sickly frames. Many slouched, others stood straight, and a few carried improvised weapons...

But all locked those eyes with intensity on the group—and in particular, Alice.

"Can't you read? You don't belong here!"

"No angels!"

"Nothing _here_ for you to tear apart!"

Right then, the toons seemed to prefer the pained groans of the Searchers to the angry shouts of the Lost Ones...they sounded so human that it was like their own audience was tearing them apart...and the feeling was a terrible one. Alice held her hands up in a placating manner. "No, no, I'm not the angel that you mean! I'm the _real_ Alice Angel! Susie was left on the real-world side!"

Quickly, Boris and Betty had to put the poor girl between them, also holding their hands up (though both of the wolf's were on his ax). "She's tellin' th' truth!" the wolf insisted over their insults. "Lookit us, we're _actual_ toons!"

"Yeah, stop yer bickerin' fer a minute an' listen, please!" Betty added, but to little avail. It looked as if the former human beings were past the point of even trying to comprehend the sight in front of them.

Then, suddenly, they saw a bunch of them in the back being pushed to the side. "Guys, c'mon, step aside! Stop this! Hold your horses a minute, huh?"

The voice this time was feminine, and though high-pitched, was intense enough to rise above the mostly-masculine voices that still complained until she muscled through; then their attention was to her, weapons lowered.

She didn't look any different from the other Lost Ones as she stood in front of the group; but they could just feel the difference in her attitude. She glanced over the three of them for a moment, before slapping the closest of her kin in the back of the head; she had a rather tough mid-western accent. "How's about you guys open your eyes and ears for _one_ minute, huh? We're on the _toon_ side of the studio, not the _real_ side...these are our characters! You knew we might run into them, so be polite!"

The rest of them fell silent, while a few good souls did have the decency to mutter a few apologies, and ended up turning and dispersing, much to the surprise of the trio.

With a sigh, the Lost One turned to the group once the mob had gone back to their places. "Sorry about them. A lot of 'em are a little too far gone in the head from what we've been through back there. They don't trust strangers, much less any that look like Mister Drew's monsters." Her head tilted. "You really _are_ toons, right, or am I wrong, and am about to be food for the Ink Demon?"

The incredulous way she asked actually made the three of them let out some chuckles, before they stood straight in front of her. "Yes, I promise, we really _are_ the toons from this studio," Alice informed, her hands folded shyly in front of her as she bobbed in a curtsy. "Alice Angel, at your service; and of course, that's Boris."

"Pleasure t' meetcha," the wolf said with a little bow of his own, nonchalantly hiding the ax behind him. "An' this here with us is a visitor; she saved us from bein' trapped back up there."

Betty did a little bow of her own. "I'm Betty Boop! An' who might you be?"

The Lost One hummed a little laugh. "Oh, I know who _you_ are; not very many cartoonists that didn't know the famous Fleischer kids, back in the day. As for _you_ two," she turned to Alice and Boris, "It's an honor to meet our toons in reality and not on the page...finally...even if it's not in the most..." She looked briefly at her shiny, jet-black hands, "..._Desirable_ of circumstances." She sighed. "As for me...not many of us retain our memories, and our names...I'm one of the fortunate ones, so the others tend to listen to me. Name's Camilla. I was once an animation intern, turned receptionist for the administration offices...and one of the last ones to be...subject to Mister Drew's cruelty. Heh, I'd have preferred a raise."

"Aw, gee whiz...well, still, s'good t'meetcha too," Boris nodded, preferring to smile under the circumstances. "S'what we've wanted t'do all along, meet th' folks that we make happy, an' who made us."

"Likewise," Alice smiled with a tilt of her head. "Though, I still apologize for what's been done for you to give up your faith in angels. And...what's been done to you in general."

"Hey," Camilla waved her hand, "If anyone should be made to apologize, it's Mister Drew. Sadly though, not much to do about that, so...moving on. What're you three doing all the way down _here?_ I overheard you're looking for _us?_ Don't mind me if that doesn't seem a bit concerning, though again, we're honored."

"Yes, in fact, we were looking for you," Alice informed.

"Long story short," Betty continued. "I came in wantin' ta help th' Joey Drew toons get outta this place...ended up savin' Boris, helpin' him save Alice, an' hearin' a _very_ sad story along th' way. Now I wanna help _everyone_, even _you_ if ya want. I do know the toon world in an' out, an' you'd be welcomed, for sure."

"Our main thing though," Boris cut in, "Is findin' out what happened to th' last member of our crew. Th' star himself, Bendy."

"It was my idea to come down here for that," Alice finished, her fingers interlocking together in front of her heart, a pleading gesture. "I knew that some of you managed to cross over...and since you know things down here...maybe we could ask you for help. If you've seen Bendy, if you know anything about the Machine, or the Ink Demon...anything."

Though it was hard for her to show emotion, Camilla still let off an air of incredulity. "...You want to help the Demon?"

"If it helps Bendy himself," Boris said with finality. "We're not leavin' without 'im."

There was a tense pause as the Lost One thought about the terms, before letting out an ink-garbled sigh. "C'mon...I'd better take you guys to a place where it would be safe to talk some more on this, then. The Demon can roam these very halls at any moment."

* * *

The toons could feel the eyes of the other Lost Ones around them now as they passed them by, many of them just watching on with something they could only guess was curiosity. At least there was no more outright hostility, especially when every so often Camilla would cautiously wave a finger to dissuade anyone from coming near them.

Leading them back out into the cavernous depths, she took them on another ride across one of the makeshift wooden gondolas, and then onto one that was made like a lift to go down. She asked Boris for help to hold onto the ropes and slowly lower themselves, seeing as usually there was always more than one operator for that particular lift, and it was a bit of a heavy load now. The wolf was more than happy to oblige, which seemed to give Camilla a bit more comfort in knowing that she was dealing with real compassion.

It was a long way into darkness that they went, and all too slowly, with the sound of dripping and pouring ink filling the silence in an endless echo across the chasm. But they didn't have to wait too long in silence before a sight only mildly familiar to Alice came into view from below...and even then, she was left in just as much awe as the others.

The Lost Ones had recreated their shanty town, and then some, from the other world onto this little plot of the underground that was surrounded by a river of stark black; Alice would have likened it to the River Styx. Two circular rows of wood-and-metal housing shacks surrounded a wide space, in the center of which stood a small statue of Bendy with little bowls of what seemed like offerings at his feet. A dock led out onto the river, and into a dark tunnel that perhaps led back to the studio proper, or to a side bunker. It was dingy, but somehow the candles and warm orange glows made by borrowed lights in the windows, and strings of them all over the cavern, had made the dismal sight a little more cozy.

The lift landed on one of the rooftops near the head of the little town, where Camilla led them to a two-story shack; the top house, it appeared, was hers, as the front door was a rooftop entrance.

"It ain't much, but then again, we've got no room to complain about luxury anymore," she said as she opened the door and ushered in her guests. "Make yourselves at home. There's a ton of bacon soup cans in the crate there, if anyone's hungry."

"Ooh! Much obliged, Miss Camilla!" the wolf said as he licked across his maw and immediately went over to pry the lid off.

Betty and Alice shared a bit of a giggle at the sight, and took in the rest of the little hovel. There was a short bookshelf filled with some of the tomes found in the archives, a projector and a few tins of film sitting in the corner, and in the center was a round wooden table with a few plates having been left there, a candle, and a seating arrangement of a sofa and two chairs around the setup. The crate where Boris was sniffing around was tucked into the other corner; no bed, no kitchen, no _bathroom_...it was basically all just a living area. Betty figured that the ink creatures had no need for sleep and only little in the way of food or water.

Camilla took a few glances around outside before closing and latching the door, and then took a seat on one of the chairs. Betty and Alice took the sofa, and everyone's eyes widened a little when Boris came in to take the last chair with a hefty armful of soup cans.

"Gee, you saving any for us?" the angel asked with a giggle and a quirked eyebrow.

Betty snickered behind a hand and whispered toward Alice. "Is he _really_ always that hungry?"

"Lemme put it this way," she grinned back with a low voice, "Back in our neck of the woods, he's been banned from every eating contest in existence."

"Aaah, they're all jus' jealous," Boris waved a hand as he was downing his _third_ can of soup already; the rest were done up in a pyramid. "I can win 'em all with m' hands tied."

"I dunno," Betty's eyes rolled up innocently, "I know a hippo from _my_ side a' town that could prob'ly match ya."

Boris snorted and gave the air a few mock-punches. "Lemme at 'im, I'll tear 'im a new pant leg. But uh, really though, I ain't that bad anymore," he said while timidly poking his tongue out, and slid them both a can. "So here y'two go if ya want."

"Boris, seriously, you can even have mine," Betty assured. "You were down here fer God knows how long...you deserve as much food as you can find."

Camilla gave a little giggle of her own (though it came out rather garbled), and sighed. "It feels unimaginably good to be able to laugh, even a little. You're the real toons, alright. Now, speaking of Boris, we should get down to brass tacks. What exactly happened here in _this_ world to make _you two,"_ she pointed to the wolf and Alice, "get stuck _here?"_

And so, they had the time to each tell their stories from the beginning, from Alice's accidental capture and loss of mind to Boris's unimaginable torture and his luck at being placed back in the toon world, supposedly by the Ink Demon or the Searchers. Camilla was attentive throughout, though silent and sad...and she let out a breath that could have been a sob by the end of it.

"You guys really didn't deserve this...nobody did. Joey Drew shouldn't have even been left alone to that place. It's truly insane. Thank goodness for Betty's help."

"Aw," the toonette shyly waved, "I only found out about this place by chance...glad my curiosity got th' better a' me now. Besides, if I weren't there, maybe _you_ guys would've found 'em instead, since you're comin' here from there."

"Yes..." Camilla hummed, "But...we wouldn't have been able to do anything to help. We're made now of the same cursed ink that makes _that_ place...and the curse on _this_ place."

Betty curiously blinked as she looked in her bag and pulled out her special inkwell, which as she willed it so, looked briefly tiny; though bigger than her hand still. "It's strange how that works. Only things made a' my ink...that is, Uncle Max's ink...can cut through this place's traps n' such."

Alice nodded. "Probably because that's the ink of a true Creator. With real powers of imagination, so much as to be able to bring a toon to life here. At least, that's how I always understood it..."

Boris tilted his head, now seemingly full enough of the soup as he threw the last can away into the bin that was in the third corner of the shack. "But, if that's the case, an' Joey's th' Creator of th' studio...why would he need th' Ink Machine?"

Betty snapped her fingers. "That's a good question! A true Creator wouldn't need somethin' like that, an' whatever other forces he conjured up, t' match this power! He'd only have his imagination, an' his inkwell."

"He thought the Machine was needed to bring toons into his world," Alice answered, closing her eyes. "Pencil, paper, imagination, it wasn't enough. And he ended up sacrificing his workers to do it...as well as stealing the life out of _our_ world, and _us._"

"It's fairly obvious, then," Camilla sighed. "Joey Drew was _not_ a true Creator. He was an impostor, and a liar. And he fooled all of us, human and toon alike."

There was a thoughtful and sad silence floating around the room then, tension so thick it could be cut with a knife—Betty even had a funny idea to try, but there were better times for humor—and then Boris broke the quiet with a soft, almost whimpering tone. "But...Joey still created _us..._didn't he?"

"Mmm..." Camilla mused as her fingers played idly among themselves, "Maybe...and maybe not."

Simultaneously, the toons' heads swiveled back up to her. "...What do you mean, 'maybe not'?" Alice's eyes narrowed.

The Lost One sighed. "Well, of course, memory's gonna be a little hazy on some things, but...I worked at the studio long enough to know that starting out, Joey Drew had a partner who ran it with him...he was at first the sole animator, and later the supervising animator. Henry Stein. The guy quit not long later, maybe a couple years...can't say as I'd blame him. Joey always said that all the ideas and creative power only belonged to _himself_, but...the oldest workers had a secret among themselves: it was probably Henry who created the characters, and the world."

"Henry...?" Boris echoed, his eyes widening a little. "Say...th' name does sound a bit familiar...ringin' like a bell now as I hear it, in fact..."

"...Yeah...it sounds familiar to me too..." Alice murmured, one hand once again going to her head as it started to ache. "_Real_ familiar. _Too_ familiar...like..." her other hand came up, the fingers framing her tiny horns. "Like...like I've seen him."

"Even if a toon never met their creator, he'll always feel familiar to 'em; or _she_, s' a changed world. It's _their _imaginative power that gives you life...they're like a parent to ya." Betty pointed out with an excited finger snap. "This Henry a' yours, he _has_ t' be the real Creator. _Your_ real creator...and Bendy's too!"

Alice shook her head, and her stare seemed distant, like she was trying hard to remember something important. "He couldn't be _mine,_ if he left the studio within a couple of years...I came later. What if I _am_ Joey Drew's, or someone else's?"

"Well, I heard that Henry'd pitched an idea for a female character that got immediately shot down early on," Camilla kept musing. "There's still a distinct possibility that he's _your_ creator too, Alice...'Course Joey would take the credit, and revive you, but it'd still be Henry..." that was when she paused and looked more carefully at the angel's reaction. "...Are you okay?"

"I...I'm not...sure..." she kept rubbing at her head. "I...I _swear, _I really think I _know_ Henry..."

"Oh, poor thing, y'have a headache?" Betty asked and dug into her bag. "I have aspirin here somewhere..."

"N-no. I'm fine," she immediately waved off, putting on a smile as she sat straight again. "I-it's nothing. Anyway, Camilla," she focused past her concerned friends and onto the Lost One, "This all being said: I don't suppose you all would happen to know anything about the whereabouts of the real Bendy? Or...if he could indeed be connected to the Ink Demon?"

She shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, dear...I don't know a thing about where your friend might be...we discovered a way into the toon world only a little while ago. As for the Demon, well...he was kept quite the secret from the employees. Those who did know—like maybe the Gent company, who worked on the Machine—never said anything, but some of us caught wind later on that...they created _something_ that wasn't right."

Betty's brow furrowed as she laid her face in her palm. "Oh dear...what a real mess...I don't suppose there might be a way t' get to th' real Machine here an' investigate it...?"

"Not a doggone chance!" Boris immediately shot, crossing his arms and turning his head away defiantly. "That thing took Alice, an' left _me_ with an experience I'd _never_ repeat!"

"Well...to be honest, it wasn't the Machine that _took_ me, per se...I chose to mess with it, and paid the price," Alice pointed out. "But if we were more careful...and that _is_ where Bendy was going..."

"Abso. Lutely. _Not._"

"It's the one place we haven't looked, Boris..."

"I ain't takin' th' chance a' losin' you again, Alice...!"

"I'm afraid that you guys would be out of luck if you _did_ try to go down there," Camilla interrupted the argument with a bit of a sheepish tone, "It's completely flooded now, near all the way to the top of the cavern it's in, and locked tightly behind closed doors. The lowest you could go is to the offices near where it's kept." She sighed. "If there were a way to turn off the Machine, it could be possible to drain the flood, but..."

"Lemme guess," Betty frowned, "Y'can't?"

"We tried," she nodded. "Many of us did. It's like the lever up top is cemented in place."

"Well...maybe Betty could do it," Boris suggested. "Everything she's done's worked so far."

The toonette nodded. "It's worth a shot."

"The thing is, the Machine is what's keeping the place powered," said Camilla, "Shutting it down might mean shutting out the real world."

"...Where a bunch of you are still trapped," Alice sighed.

"Yes...we want to get everyone here...but who knows how long that'll be..."

"...What do we do now?" Betty murmured.

"There _has_ t' be _somethin'..._" Boris huffed. "_Somethin' _we're missin'."

As they were thinking, Alice focused once more on the thing that was nagging at her since hearing Henry's name...something trying to reach the edge of her mind, screaming for attention, making her head ache all the more.

And then, as she closed her eyes, it came flashing back.

_"I see you there..."_

_ "__Better hurry, errand boy...we have work to do."_

_"BRING ME BACK MY BORIS!"_

_ "Henry...why are you here? We're all dying to find out..."_

_ "WHY CAN'T YOU EVER JUST DIE?!"_

_ The look of fear and defiance combined on the man's face...the look of sadness as she charged...the swift, cold feeling of steel through flesh and ink..._

Alice's eyes shot open again, and she let out a loud gasp. "Henry! I _did_ see him!"

The others glanced up at her with perplexed expressions. "Whatcha talkin' 'bout?" Boris blinked with shock.

"Oh dear God..." Alice held her head, feeling a pounding ache with the memory now. "Henry's _here!_ On the other side, in the real-world studio! We saw him..._Susie_ and I saw him...!"

"Alice, dear, calm down!" Betty exclaimed as she placed her hands on the girl's shoulders to steady her hysterics. "Take a breath an' explain!"

"Yeah!" Boris said, having leaped up to his feet at this news. "Y'can't be pullin' my leg, here...!"

The angel gulped and tried to breathe through the images that were coming back to her. "I'm not, Boris...it's true. For some reason, Henry returned to the studio, as it is now...he fought through monsters...outran the Ink Demon. Befriended one of your clones, even," she smiled a little shakily, "Before I...we..._she_ tore him away. She...I...I almost killed him...he's the real Creator..." her eyes welled up, "And...and I almost...!"

"Aw...Alice..." Boris whimpered a little as he instantly went over to the sofa and gathered her in a warm hug, her words slowly turning into sobs. "Alice, I told ya...it wasn't _you._ It was Susie...an' th' Machine, what did this to ya. You'd never do that, not _you_."

"Listen to 'im, honey," Betty encouraged along, patting her on the back. "It ain't your fault at all. Stop yer cryin', it's fine! C'mon...what should we do t' cheer ya up, huh?"

Alice hiccuped through her sobs, reaching up to wipe her eyes as she started to come out of her sudden bout of sadness. "Well," she sniffed, "I _could_ probably use a couple of those aspirin now."

"Aw, certainly...!" Betty acquiesced with a sympathetic smile as she produced a small bottle of medicine _and_ a full glass of water from her bag. "Here ya go."

Camilla simply watched the toons' interactions in silence for a moment; after all, the Lost Ones weren't _really_ a part of this world, and it wasn't really her place to do much in the line of interfering. But she _was_ a little fascinated by the news of Henry having returned. There was now a _whole_ slew of questions that needed answers. Hopefully, it would lead to the beloved characters in front of her being able to go home, and together.

And then came a thought, but which seemed impossible...but still an idea...what if they could bring Henry to this side...? What could the presence of a true Creator do that even Betty couldn't?

It was just when the three of them were starting to get smiles back on their faces again (thanks to Betty's cheerful coaching), that there suddenly came another sound from outside the door, and getting quite loud.

"Miss Camilla! _Miss Camilla!_ You gotta see th—ohnoohnoaaaAAAH!" _SPLAT! THUMP._

The toons all stared with bewilderment at the door, and all wincing a bit at the sound of an apparent collision with it.

If Camilla had visible pupils, they knew she'd have been rolling them as her head did the motion. "Oh, for the love of..." the inky being muttered as she got up from her seat and went to open the door, reaching down to help the fallen Lost One crumpled up there at the threshold. "Good gosh, Morty, I told you, you're in the toon world with _slippery feet._ Don't ever run!"

"Ugh...sorry, I keep forgettin'..." the apparently male ink being muttered as the toons in the room could all be heard snickering or giggling.

Camilla just brushed the dust off of him as he stood up again. "S'alright...now, what the _heck_ made you wanna do that?"

He shook what dizziness he had out of his head and started again. "I'm _so_ sorry to disturb you, but...you won't believe this...Sammy's back!"

She let out a loud gasp and backed up a step. "You're kidding! The prophet's _here_?"

"Yeah! Found his mask floundering in the ink river, and when we pulled it out, _he_ came with it, good as new!"

"Oh, good Lord, I can't believe this..."

"Waitaminute!" Boris exclaimed as he and the ladies scrambled to their feet, unable to keep from overhearing the conversation. "Sammy? As in _Sammy Lawrence?_"

"Your music director that you said went crazy?" Betty tried to clarify, looking between the wolf and angel, who was too stunned at the moment with varying emotions to even find words.

Camilla looked back to them. "The one and the same, it seems...uh..." she glanced back over to Morty, who was sparing quick and nervous looks at the apparent guests in her home. "Tell the others I'll be down to join them in a second."

Once he hobbled (in a quick walk this time) out of view, she faced the toons again. "Uhm...you guys _might_ want to stay here. There's no telling how he'll react to you yet."

The three of them nodded in tandem. "Definitely sounds like the better idea," Boris agreed.

And with that, Camilla left them in silence, while out of the window there seemed to rise a clamor of activity.


	5. Chapter 5

((AN: Finally, time for a chapter update! x3 This one's a bit late, because it's probably the longest to date, and I've been working hard mostly on getting character interactions right with the new characters we meet...specifically Sammy, who at first wasn't going to be in the story, because I wanted to keep the ink monsters from the game mostly out of it for the focus on the toons. But after some thought, I found that technically, he COULD escape into the Toon World as well as the Lost Ones, and that he might be useful for the plot to continue. I was worried about how to write him at first...but his dialogue kinda wrote itself after a while, which I think works! It's in-character for him to take over and get involved, even on a story, and it was just fun. x3 I just hope I did him right by the standards of fans...and made his transition into the Toon World believable.

Also, I'm changing this story from a crossover into a regular BatIM story, because though technically it's a crossover, Betty Boop doesn't have her own section. x3 So this can also technically be a story with her as a special guest star. :3 Plus this may go to a few more readers if it's in the main section.

As usual, please take the time to comment if you like the story, I appreciate it, and it keeps the muses going! =) Enjoy! ))

* * *

Chapter 5

After a moment of waiting (and trying to listen for any discernible words in the upheaval below their temporary roost), the toons couldn't help but try to be nosy. Boris, being the tallest and able to reach the sole window carved out in the shack, was leaning up on the tips of his shoes, his ears swiveling about almost like radio antennae as he peered out. Betty had taken a step-stool out of her bag to go join him.

What they could see was something of a mob of Lost Ones, many of whom were forced to stay back in the sidelines as they seemed to fawn over someone. He was walking up toward the largest shack at the head of the town, a figure of ink with a slightly-more-put-together build and a pair of suspender pants in a different style than those of Boris. He was clutching what appeared to be a mask in his left hand as his right was cradling his head.

It _appeared_ to be Sammy Lawrence as he had been on the other side, indeed...Boris was just waiting to hear him say something, if for confirmation.

"Can ya see anythin' better?" Betty asked Boris as she lightly nudged him out of the way to see for herself. "I can't make out heads 'r tails of th' ground."

"Jus' that Sammy's retreatin' inside th' big house..."

Alice stayed by herself at her place on the couch, just watching the other two do their spying with a sigh as she picked at what remained inside of a soup can. She wasn't sure what to feel right then about the news of Sammy's appearance. On the one hand, she knew what he'd become after the Ink Machine had gotten to him. And who knew what he was like _now_, having heard from the Searchers that the Ink Demon had seemingly torn him limb from limb to send him back?

On the other hand...she knew how Susie used to feel about him before. And had still. As was the power of an angel, Alice could always feel the light of love inside someone. It was the only kind of light that had still lingered, flickering like a weak candle, inside of the actress's heart.

"Oooh...all this waitin's just gettin' to me," Betty huffed, stepping off the stool and crossing her arms. "I just _hafta_ see what's goin' on!"

"But we can't!" Boris argued. "You heard Camilla. What if...what if he's still a monster? We oughta jus' stay an' wait for some word back."

"Oh c'mon, yer really not curious?" the toonette asked with a raised eyebrow, her hands settling on her hips. "That's one a' yer _creators_ down there!"

Boris's ears lowered a little, and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "_Yeah_, but...I toldja what happened, Betty. You don't know what the Machine _does_, how it _changed_ everyone. He may not even remember himself!"

"He did," Alice finally spoke up, though quietly. "But...in little pieces. Even as a human, he was losing his mind. As an ink being, he became heartless and razor-focused on only one thing: his delusion that the Ink Demon—or Bendy—or both—would somehow save him and the others from this fate." Her head shook. "Don't think I really _wanna_ meet him."

Betty's expression fell, and she let out a thoughtful hum. "Well...that was back in th' other world. What about _here_? Th' toon world has a habit a' kickin' some cheer into ya, or don't you guys remember how it used ta be?"

Alice's brow furrowed. "It's...how I thought I could save Susie. By bringing her here." Her lips pursed as she had a thought. "...The Lost Ones _do_ seem to have more energy here. If I recall, most of them couldn't even speak. Now we've met _many_ that do."

"Exactly!" Betty clapped. "This place heals ya, through hope an' joy an' laughs, even down in this dingy place. What if it does so t' Sammy?"

"Perhaps..." Alice bit her lip. "I'm still not so sure it _could_ get through to Sammy."

"Say," Boris scratched his chin, "If Sammy can be brought through, an' th' Lost Ones, all who were once human...maybe th' others can too." He cast a sad look toward Alice. "'Fraid I don't reckon Susie's in enough a' her mind t'be saved, true...but there's prob'ly still Norman, an' Mister Fain, an'..." he gasped, gripping his head with urgency. "_Henry! _He's still there, an' still _all _human!"

The angel's eyes widened a little. "Yeah...Sammy met him." She then seemed to get a good amount of determination and stood up, a frown on her lips. "I guess we _might_ have a reason to talk to the old music master-turned-sacrificial prophet, after all."

"Uh...but...we still gotta stay here..." Boris objected again, though weakly. "...Don't we?"

The girls exchanged glances, and took on equal innocent rolls of the eyes. "Camilla said we gotta stay...didn't say we had t' be _inside,"_ Betty pointed out."What if we jus' looked from th' roof out there?"

"I'd say that might work, Miss Boop," Alice said in an all-too chipper tone, with the underlying knowledge to it that it _wasn't_ going to be a suggestion.

The wolf just had to smirk and roll his eyes. "Pa always said, never argue with a woman. _Definitely _can't argue with two."

The toonettes both snickered in agreement as each took one of his hands and dragged him out the door.

* * *

"Alright everyone, go on, get outta here...give the poor guy some room to breathe!" Camilla ordered as she stood before the crowd, still gathered around Sammy's adopted roost at the head of the shanty town. "You know our prophet...he'll speak up when he wants to. Shoo!"

There were a few defeated grumbles from a few of the ink-people, but eventually they all turned without a fight and spared only a few looks back as they wandered off, either back to their homes or to keep watch on the edge of the abyssal water.

With a little sigh, Camilla then turned back to the subject in question who, aside from a terse thank-you to the one who pulled him out of the ink, hadn't said a word to anyone—and from the look of the slouch in his back, as he fell to his knees in front of a Bendy poster in the hovel, probably still wasn't in a talking mood.

It was strange to see him like that, when normally (both now and past) he spoke as if he liked to hear himself, singing a song or reciting a monologue. Always, he was as much a performer as he was a director.

"Sammy?" Camilla ventured, tilting her head. She was a little cautious, knowing how volatile he could be. "How're you feeling? Can I getcha something?"

The old director seemed to ignore her, instead casting his eyeless gaze to the scratched and worn Bendy mask that he always kept with him. He made a move as if to put it back on...then seemed to hesitate.

Just as Camilla thought of giving up and turning away herself, he spoke, quiet and even in tone.

"I am..._such_ a fool."

The Lost One felt that he was speaking to himself more than to her; but she stayed to listen anyway as he went on, gesturing with his mask.

"Amazing how for so long I thought that our Lord would save us. Save _me_ from this wretched existence. But no...no, I've been deceived. Betrayed. Instead of bringing me into his arms, he sent me back." He raised his head to the poster. "Why was I cursed like this?"

Then, to Camilla's surprise, he _did_ turn his head to regard her, even going so far as to meet her eyes, when usually he didn't spend much time acknowledging his subjects beyond referring to them, or issuing orders. "Why...were _we_ cursed like this? What was the point? I...don't remember, anymore."

There was a bit of a silent beat, and when she figured he was _actually _awaiting an answer, she gave one. "We were fed into the Machine. And lost ourselves. There was no point, other than to feed Joey Drew's madness."

"...Ah...yes. The name...the name's familiar. The so-called Creator. Yes. I remember."

There was a little bit of hope that lit up where Camilla's heart would have been, if she were sure she still had one. Perhaps _his_ mind could still be saved. "...You don't look any the worse for wear, at least."

There was a long-suffering sigh before he looked himself over. "_At least_...hah. At _least_ I haven't become a Searcher, or anything else. Somehow, I'm still...me, in this body. My mind...actually feels a little clearer now, come to think of it. But," he flexed his fingers, four on each hand, like the toon that he seemed close to being. "I'm not so sure how well I can keep going."

"Well...you _were_ just pulled back...makes sense you'd be exhausted."

"No...I mean, with _this,_" he gestured to the mask, and then to the poster. "With my sacrifices, and my prayers...with my hopes...to a false idol." With an angry huff, he tossed the mask aside. "The Demon does not accept me. I cannot keep trying..even to exist."

Camilla winced at his abrasion, but carefully tried to continue conversing. She at least had to bring up the subject of the toons...and that meant bringing up the world he was now in. "Well...y'know, there's a _very_ good chance now that you're here...that things will be better."

"Clinging to false hope...as always," he softly intoned, his back turned fully to her again. "All of you sitting on the precipice of darkness, waiting for freedom, like the good flock that you are. Me...I know better...there is no freedom yet. I know now that I'm not worthy." His head shook. "I gave my Lord a perfect sacrifice...and he ignored it...and took _me_, dragged me back into the abyss. Either it wasn't worthy...or _I_ wasn't...either way..." one hand went up to the poster, and he dragged his fingers down over the old, worn face of the toon. "I still can't help but feel...an attachment, to the Demon...perhaps...it can still be salvaged...he could still look upon us with favor."

The Lost One nervously played with her fingers as he spoke, so softly and sadly. She wondered how he'd take the news...especially the part about how now, he may someday see the true Bendy. Even more, if he would even agree to help the Lost Ones all cross over from the other world, to feel the energy of the toons' home.

"Sammy," she began, "You really _should_ know something..."

"-Please," he suddenly raised one hand behind him to interrupt her. "Go back with the others now. Leave me in peace...I must regain myself. My mind is...all over, wandering and remembering things that were...lost. I have to think. Perhaps it would do me good to visit my old office...my sanctuary, my music..."

"...Well...I do wish you luck if you do that, sir. This isn't the same studio you know. Everything's here, but...you'll find it to be very different."

His head quirked back up, curiously. "...How do you mean, _different?_ Speak. What has happened?"

Camilla would have gulped if she could. Though it was necessary now, getting the direct attention from the prophet could still be either very good, or very bad. _I really wish the Ink Demon could've stayed back there._ "You see...it seems by chance, as many of us left the ink void...we reformed in a different _version_ of the studio...on the other side of the reels, you would say."

"...The other side? This does not feel like death..." he murmured. "But...it does feel..._somewhat_ different here, now that you mention. But...the reels? Don't be cryptic with me now, little sheep."

_Guess there's no other way to put it._ "My prophet...you're in..."

And that's when a few familiar voices from not too far away and up on the rooftops piped in.

"...Oh, no, Boris, don't get _that_ close...!"

"WAAAA!"

"Oh dear...hang on!"

The voices were joined by a cacophony of loud banging, like upon the thin metal sides of a shack. Immediately, Sammy peered out of the entrance as Camilla turned to see her three guests having left the house...and two of whom were now trying to pull a third back up onto the parapet by his hands as he'd slipped, his feet kicking and trying to climb back up.

_Oh great... _Camilla thought as she cringed, holding her forehead in one hand and peering sidelong at Sammy for his reaction.

There were a dead few beats of quiet. Then, the prophet spoke, his head turning back to Camilla. His voice seemed to get an..._interested_ edge, now.

"Guests, have we? Do bring them to me. I would love to hear more about these..._differences._"

"...Of course, sir."

* * *

"I'm so sorry about this," Camilla whispered weakly to the three toons as she ushered them through the town, the glowing eyes of almost every single ink being now upon them. "Sammy seems to actually be rethinking himself right now, but...try to be cooperative. Remember, ultimately, all the Lost Ones answer to _him..._however good I am at persuading them."

"It's okay, don't be sorry, Miss Camilla," Boris whispered back, trying to keep his own eyes off the onlookers. "This was my doin'. I'll face th' music if I hafta." _Though it's a good thing Betty let me keep th' ax in her bag..._

"Y'ain't goin' to th' gallows, Boris," said Betty as she kept in step beside him and actually let herself glance at their unsettling audience, "Much as it feels. Maybe we can reason with Sammy."

Alice huffed with skepticism, but said nothing; by the look on her face, she was rather determined to play hardball with the prophet if it came right down to it. Boris was praying that she wouldn't, however; the angel _could_ hold a nice temper and found it hard to back down from an argument. Whatever was about to happen, it had a _very_ good chance of having them end up back in the Machine, and the Ink Demon's mercy.

As they approached the shack, Sammy, with the Bendy mask back on his face, was kneeling on the ground...and the toons each gulped as they spied a drawing of a familiar summoning circle etched in front of him, using the ink from his finger. He was frozen though; there was just one line to draw, and he looked conflicted about finishing it, though he was muttering lines of something under his breath.

"S-Sammy? Here they are," Camilla softly introduced, once more breathing a hushed apology to the group as she stepped to the side.

"Good...but don't you go anywhere yet," he calmly ordered, holding his hand up. Then he looked up to the toons, standing up without finishing his artwork and crossing his arms. "Well then...we seem to have some ink clones running around where they shouldn't...an interesting development indeed...could someone explain to me why you are all the way down here?"

Though each of them were a little shaky facing him, Boris was the most so, his kneecaps practically clicking together. "H-hey, Mister Lawrence..." he tried for a wide, placating grin as he stepped up in front of the girls, "What's happenin'?"

"Lawrence," the inky prophet practically chuckled, "I haven't heard that name actually spoken in forever...I only know it as mine from the signs on the old doors of my office. But now, you intrigue me. Unlike the other clones of the wolf that used to wander around...you speak _just_ like he does."

"W-well...that's b-because I ain't a clone," he tried to explain without getting tongue-tied, "I-I'm real. Th' real Boris th' Wolf."

"_Real?_ No." Sammy sounded confident, though he did place his fingertips to his forehead through the mask. "The Creator _tried_ to make you real, like the asinine cartoons. All failed...though, brilliant in his failure, in his own way, is the Demon. _Still_...I can't recall him ever making the..._angel_ life-like," he said, the word coming out with incredulity. "And _you,_" he pointed to Betty, "...Aren't familiar in the slightest."

Alice simply cast her gaze aside, and Betty grimaced with a bit of a huff. Boris held his hands up, pleadingly. "But, it's actually true...we're th' real toons, that you an' everyone else brought t' life in th' studio, way back when...an', matter a' fact, yer in th' world a' toons...s'why we're here...we were stuck here too, an' we're tryin' t' get back out. We're down here t'...find help, if we can..." He kept up his innocent smile as he spoke a little faster and cast a thumb behind him. "But, uh, y'know, if we ain't wanted, we _can_ just skedaddle outta here, no trouble..."

_"__Boris,"_ both toonettes hissed.

"Oh, no...nobody's going anywhere...yet," Sammy practically hummed. "See...it's not easy to trust anyone down here if they're strangers. If you're not of the Ink, you're not familiar. And I have no way to tell if I'm being lied to. And if it turns out I am...well..." he pointed to the unfinished circle, "You can _guess._ The Demon likes taking the sinners apart."

"Sammy..." Camilla timidly interrupted, "What they're saying is true...I can tell you that...it's what I was trying to say before we heard them. We've somehow used the ink to cross over into..._their_ world. The world _you_ helped create...surely you wouldn't sacrifice our own _toons_ to the Demon?"

"_Toons? _Those meaningless clones...no, of course not...the _angel_ would do that, but not me...now, _you_ on the other hand," he said as he suddenly grabbed a whimpering Camilla by the wrist, "Sheep go back to the void if they're defiant...fodder for my lord."

"_NO!_" all three of the toons suddenly shouted, and their insistence suddenly made Sammy freeze in place...there was never anyone who really _cared_ for the Lost Ones...hell, they didn't show much care for _each other. _He was the only one they looked up to. Just who _were_ these creatures?

"Look," Boris hastily spoke, "Mister Lawrence, we can _prove_ that we're in th' toon world, we _can._ Alice an' me, sure, we came from th' studio, but...Betty here didn't!"

There was a long beat. "...Betty?"

"Y-yeah," the toonette herself then spoke up, giving her little curtsy. "I'm Betty Boop, Mister Sammy...from _Fleischer_ Studios. I was visiting, an' found th' toons all in bad shape 'round here...no lies t' be had, y'can trust 'em, an' me! Now please, don't hurt Camilla! Y'can't have wanted t' hurt anyone before!"

"Camilla..." Sammy echoed, and his free hand again went up to rub at his temples before he met the eyes of the Lost One still in his grip. "Camilla...that name's...familiar now too. It wasn't before."

"Yeah...Camilla...th' secretary to administration, right?" Boris asked, and the Lost One nodded her confirmation, secretly hoping that the toons' pleas would strike through the holes opening up in Sammy's head.

And then...it was like a few more lights had indeed brightened in the prophet's mind, as he stood stock frozen...lights that had long since dimmed, or burned out altogether, since he was transformed into one of the monsters in the studio. Lights that turned into random, but familiar, faces that he worked with or among. Some he could name, others he couldn't...but Camilla was indeed one of them. The real world, his humanity, much more that he'd forgotten, flashed quickly like a slide show...and it became too overwhelming for him to bear. The curtains of the prophet were cast off...and there lay only the musician, cringing in a cold body of ink.

"...Oh dear Lord!" he exclaimed as he instantly let go of her and ripped off his mask to toss away again, holding his head in his hands. "What...what was I going to do? What...what's...happening to me? I can...remember. I can remember! So much!" He fell to his knees, right onto the circle. "N-no..." he practically wept. "No...I'm not supposed to remember."

Instantly, the toons were by his side, taking him by the arms and helping him up carefully, and off of the circle before it could be accidentally finished and the Demon actually summoned. Camilla, still a little shaken by the threat and the sudden release, watched all of this go down with increasing wonder as they spoke to him in gentle tones and ushered him into a nook of the shack, just out of the sight of the curious throng out in the town. She thought it best to just stay in the entrance to ward off anyone coming to investigate the outburst, while still staying in earshot.

"There now, there now, take it easy," Betty soothed as she patted his back along with the others, himself still balled up a little from the overwhelming flood going on in his mind. "Yer okay, Mister Sammy...here, just take deep breaths, don'tcha get a headache, now..."

"Is it really such a good idea to help him like this?" Alice inquired quietly, nonetheless staying close by.

"Well...like Betty said, he _is_ one a' our creators. We're bound t' try, so we might as well while we're in this deep," Boris pointed out, though feeling a little conflicted himself. The prophet had seemed to turn from jaded to broken in seconds.

And the more he wept, the more the wolf felt like he should care...and care he did.

After a few long moments, letting him take in his new reality and regain his composure, Sammy let his hands slip from his featureless face and sat back, meeting the eyes of the toons—_their_ toons. His voice was quiet, but now weak, no longer tinged with a sadistic confidence. "What...have you done to me? I can suddenly remember...almost everything of my past life."

"Uh...w-we didn't do anythin', I don't think," said Boris as he looked at the others curiously.

"Nope, wasn't us, Mister Sammy," Betty's head shook. "The toon side a' things just has some kinda zing to it, brings yer hope back up...an' you helped create a part of it, makes sense it'd give somethin' back."

"...It's true," Camilla soon added, once she made sure things were clear outside. "Most of us, before we came here, couldn't even think straight, much less speak...now, suddenly...we're trying to make the most of what we have left."

Sammy seemed to furrow his brow. "...The lot of you _did_ seem a bit more..._lively__._ I guess...there's no denying it. We really _are_, so to speak, on the other side of the reel."

"Magical, ain't it?" Betty said with a cheerful smile.

At that, he snorted. "Magic. That's the kind of junk that Joey Drew always sold to us. What would be magical is if this place could give me my old body back."

He looked over the three toons again, who were all showing various signs of worry. He hummed. "You'll have to excuse my cynicism, of course. I remember that...we were all made to work _so_ hard on these cartoons. Day and night, barely any sleep, working towards impossible deadlines. Song after song...it wasn't a labor of love...it was just labor. Especially when Joey Drew kept the credit for himself." He let out a harsh sigh. "I was even seeing Bendy in my dreams. Just smiling. Wordlessly saying to keep going. That everything would...be..._okay_."

He then glanced to where he threw his mask in the dirt. "...Perhaps that's why I became so devoted to the little thing when I was...fractured. Bendy was all I knew, besides the vague history of this place, and the people who...all became trapped. And now that I remember...it's done nothing but rob me of what purpose my bleak life had. I can't..._ever..._go back."

"So, go forward," Betty gently suggested, "Make somethin' of what ya got, like Camilla an' yer other friends here."

Sammy hummed. "I would...have to think on it. Like I said...I didn't associate the cartoon with happiness. But..." he got back up to his feet, "_P__erhaps..._there's a way to salvage this." He then turned to the Lost One, who'd been quiet for a little while, and she seemed to wince involuntarily. "...There are many things to salvage, it seems. Miss Camilla...I won't try to ask for forgiveness. I'm not worthy of it, not after everything. But maybe there's at least _something_ I can do."

Stunned at first by his sincere words, the inky person snapped out of it after a second and cleared her throat. "Well...I had something in mind. We all did, really. We want to bring the rest of the Lost Ones...and whatever other humans might be stuck...over to this side. They could be more at peace, if not healed. If you could help..."

"That...would be a start, yes," he nodded slowly. "Of course...there's still a matter of avoiding the monsters."

"Y'do still hafta beware th' Searchers...and th' Ink Demon," Boris pointed out, "Even here."

That's when Sammy gave him the impression of a quirked eyebrow. "The Searchers I don't worry about. I can command them better than I could some of my band in the old days. But...the Demon...I'd have thought by all your praise of this place that _he'd_ be changed here, too. Say...why _isn't_ Bendy with you?"

That's when the toons passed each other nervous glances, and shook their heads, their gazes sadly on their feet. Boris spoke next. "Bendy's...trapped here somewhere, like we were, b'fore Betty saved us. Th' Ink Demon was made as a copy on th' other side...so I'd think they ain't associated none...an' so, we're here lookin' fer our friend."

At that, Sammy seemed quite troubled. "The Bendy I knew...the Demon...truly nothing but a copy all this time...I really _was_ a fool. Then, the _real_ Bendy...where _could_ he possibly be?"

Boris gulped. "Well...th' only place we haven't looked is...back in th' Machine itself, on this side."

"Which, again, is flooded," Camilla reminded them. "I want you to save your friend as much as anyone, but...if you _really_ want to try your impossible plan of turning the Ink Machine _off_, you'll have to let us get everyone from _that_ side that can be saved _here_ before the connection is severed. _Especially_, remember, if Henry's still there."

"Henry?" Sammy suddenly whirled around to her, one hand whipping back up to his head. "...That name rings a bell too. A...rather large one, in fact."

"Th' Studio's head animator," Betty offered.

"_Our_ true Creator!" Boris added.

"The one _you_ tried to sacrifice to the Ink Demon before you were sent back."

Everyone turned to Alice then, hearing her cold tone with gaping eyes and mouths, but she was firm in her matter-of-fact reasoning. Her angry, accusing pie-cut eyes rested squarely on Sammy, and nobody else, fists balled at her sides.

He was frozen at that moment, and even though he'd seemed to be more himself, there was the fleeting sight of his fingers flexing, like he was on the edge of his own anger. It was like Alice's voice had jarred something in him; more hidden emotions, more humanity. He was deep in thought now, the memories of his actions returning...and indeed, when recalling Henry, the face was familiar enough; one he'd only ever seen and known a few times before, but it was once as much a presence as Joey Drew in the memory of the studio.

And then, how he was the last time he saw him, helplessly tied up with a pleading face as he was left to die...

"...So that's why..."

Finally, Sammy let out a breath—still in disbelief at himself—and fell to his knees before the angel. Her fists uncoiled in slight surprise at his prostrating, but she still kept her brow furrowed as she listened to him speak again, broken and soft.

"...I really _don't_ deserve redemption...do I? After all my complaining...it seems that keeping this body would be...a fitting punishment for what I tried to do...Hell, feeding myself again to the Ink Demon would be fitting...having him send me back and tear my mind apart, so that I can't remember what I've done to human beings and souls...I wasn't worthy for _him, _nor am I for anyone." He hung his head. "Saying I'm sorry...wouldn't be enough...would it...?" his voice trailed off, like the words were stuck, or refused to show themselves. There really _was_ nothing he could say.

The toons were quiet at that, deciding to let Alice have the final say in whether or not he _could _be forgiven. The angel's angry face fell slightly into one of sad pity, and then she took a breath and knelt in front of him, her gloved hand resting on his shoulder. "Redemption really_ isn't _out of reach for you, Mister Lawrence...your actions _weren't_ all yours...it was the Machine. The only one who has to beg for forgiveness here is Joey Drew. And if you _really_ mean to redeem yourself...then helping out the Lost Ones should be enough. Your toons can forgive you, too," she glanced at Boris with a smile, "Right?"

The wolf got a grin on his own face as he nodded. "Sure can...an' I'm sure Bendy would say th' same if he were here. I know y' didn't like it much, but...y'still _were_ an important part of us an' our world. _Nobody_ better could write our music, an' you should know that, right now. _Nobody_ better."

"Mister Drew couldn't say that, for his own pride," Alice reminded him, patting the ink-figure on the shoulder as he looked up to her eyes. "But _we_ can, and we mean it. We wanted to meet our creators very much...that meant _you_, too." She then giggled a little. "Uncle Sam."

The old musician snorted and shook his head; probably the closest to a laugh that the toons were gonna get out of him. "_Please _don't call me that."

"Okay, yes, bad joke...but still," she grinned primly and stood back up again, her hands behind her back, "I mean it."

It was hard to tell with a faceless visage of ink...but from his posture alone, they could tell that he was about ready to cry; though it would be senseless as there were no tears to shed. He settled for a loud, disbelieving huff. "Then...thank you for that, I suppose."

Betty broke the quiet after that with a little sniff, taking out a handkerchief and wiping her eyes. "Oh goodness, these reunion-type things get me all teary."

Boris chuckled. "Better have more a' them napkins handy, 'cause when we meet Henry, it's gonna be a doozy."

Alice hummed. "But, now, _how_ are we going to get him here, if he can't travel through the void? And especially under the notice of the Ink Demon?"

"That monster'll be a problem for _us_, too, getting our comrades back on this side and freed from their cages," Camilla muttered.

Sammy got back up, and slowly started pacing as he let out his thoughts. "The Ink Demon might be able to hear everything...but really only stays in the studio proper, if I remember. If he's anywhere on this side, I _could_ possibly help keep him here with my own distractions," he gestured to his unfinished summoning circle. "The Lost Ones can quickly shuffle their brethren out of the studio. And you three toons can do what you do best...the impossible, apparently."

Betty snapped her fingers. "I _do_ have my pen! If we find Henry, maybe I can make my _own_ portal to th' other side, an' bring 'im here!"

"That _did_ almost work for Susie..." Alice cautiously pointed out. "Going through the projector windows."

"In that case, I could lend you my projector," Camilla added. "Just place it in any ink puddle in the studio and play it, it'll give you a window."

"It'll still be near impossible to find 'im!" Boris groaned. "Th' studio's _huge_."

Alice shook her head. "No...I don't think he'll just be _any_ random place. He was there in front of Susie and I when we were attacked from behind. Whomever did _that_ must have him now."

The angel then heard a quiet but quick shuffling, and she turned to see Sammy once again with his full attention on her, now looking somewhat...bewildered, and pained. "...Susie? Susie Campbell?"

There was a pang in Alice's heart at the way he said her name. She turned and gave a solemn nod. "My mind was trapped with Susie's for a long time, on the other side...together we made up a false Alice Angel, as she insisted she call herself...the one you and the Lost Ones despised."

"I...felt I knew who she really was," Sammy nodded. "But to hear it now confirmed..." he took a breath to steady himself. "You said she was...attacked?"

She tried to continue while ignoring the ache of her heart; he _had_ to know. "She was trying to kill Henry in a rage. Someone quickly caught her from behind, with some sort of blade...right through the chest. We went down instantly...and she felt no pain."

"...A blade...I see..." he murmured quietly, falling again into silent thought. "Here I was...sure that maybe..." He shook his head rapidly. "At any rate. From that, I believe I know to whom that blade belongs. You may have a chance of finding Henry if you find the other angel. She calls herself Alice, too…but I'm almost certain her real name is Allison."

Alice gave a little gasp, while behind her, Boris and Betty gave each other questioning looks. "Allison?" Betty echoed.

"Allison Pendle," the angel informed. "...My voice actress to replace Susie. She's the one who gave me the voice I have now."

"Only two people could have the right to call themselves by your name...though, I personally thought that Susie was a shoe-in for you," Sammy sighed. "It should have been _her_ voice that gave you life...as she brought life to many other things, and would have probably made you a star. But, of course...Joey Drew, in all his _genius,_ broke her heart last minute, and threw her aside. Miss Pendle was great, of course, but..." he hung his head. "What I wouldn't give...to hear Susie sing one more time..."

Alice sadly hummed, touching his arm. "Susie...was a victim too...and driven to anger, knowing only betrayal. I wanted to save her, and failed. And so, I'm going to make sure Henry makes it to this side; that's _my _redemption. If any of our creators deserve to _never_ be a part of that studio's horror, it's _going_ to be our _real_ one."

"Now _that_ I can give an amen," Boris said with a swing of his fist.

"In-_deed_," Betty agreed. "But now, where can we find this Allison?"

"..._That_ I'm not certain of," Sammy's head shook. "I've seen enough glimpses of her to know she exists..._and_ that she travels with the only remaining Boris clone that hasn't been taken apart."

"Yer kiddin'," the wolf gaped.

"Nope," Camilla snickered. "And I think _I_ know where they are. They have a safe house on the other side of the tunnels, on the ink river, only accessed with a boat. I can have Morty take you to the equivalent place, if he hasn't tripped on himself again."

"Then it's time the rest of us got to work," Sammy said with finality. "I'll keep the Demon off of you. It's all I can do, and yet, the very _least_."

"...Mister Lawrence?" Boris raised his hand.

"All of you can just call me Sammy, like the rest of my shee...augh...like the others." He then muttered under his breath, "That'll take some conditioning."

The toons giggled, and the wolf continued. "Well then, Sammy, uh...jus' wanted t' say, make sure y' don't get caught by 'im again, okay? Y'just got here an' met us...an' all...can't have our creators gettin' hurt again..."

Sammy huffed. "I never _once_ thought that a moving drawing would suddenly make me feel like I'm needed. Don't worry...I can only be caught by surprise...and I'm _not_ easy to surprise. I have the same power to traverse through ink portals...and leave without a trace. You three go do what you need to do, and we'll be around to help next. If we need to take that Machine apart to find my lor...to find _Bendy..._then so be it. We're _all_ leaving this damned place."

As Betty did a little "woop!" of excitement, Alice and Boris hugged one another in their own. "Hot dang, we got ourselves a cavalry!" the wolf practically howled.

"Let's get moving then, you crazy kids," Camilla ordered, turning out from the shack and back into the shanty town, surely to face the questions of many a Lost One who'd managed to eavesdrop.

But before the toons could leave, Alice lightly tapped Sammy's shoulder to get his attention. "Sammy, I got somethin' else to let you know, just in case we _don't_ see you again."

He chuckled. "The lady's always the one with the worry. What is it?"

"That...if it's any consolation...regarding Susie. Deep in her heart, she still liked you too. Very much."

She really did wish that she could see his facial expressions play out as well as their outlines did on an empty, inky slate...but even without them, she could feel that there was a small, though sad, warmth welling up in him.

"...I appreciate knowing that. Thanks, Alice."

"Anytime. Hey, maybe someday you can at least stand to hear _me_ sing."

He snorted. "We'll see. There might still be songs to write after all of this. But you should probably know that I _did_ always like you, as a character, though I could never admit so."

And with a warm smile cast to the musician, she turned to catch up with the others, and get the last part of their rescue plans into motion.

* * *

"Y'know, I do kinda envy those on the other side who could travel this river," said Morty as he grunted in paddling their makeshift boat forward. "They had an actual electric paddle-wheel boat. Real spiffy!"

The boat didn't look like much; it was a wide wooden rowboat built like one would have built a toy, though with a thick hull. But it floated fairly well enough on the ebony swells, and it held all of the toons' weights, plus one Lost One, and of course, the extra-heaviness of Camilla's projector. Alice and Betty kept the thing steady between them while Boris stood up to help row and steer.

"I could prob'ly help ya build a paddle-wheel boat," the wolf offered. "I ain't too bad at buildin'."

"Aw, it's fine," Morty chuckled nervously. "It's just a real honor to have you guys helping me...that is, after Miss Camilla explained who you were."

"It's our pleasure," Boris grinned happily.

Betty gave a little clap. "Ooh, this is so exciting...you'll get t' meet yer Creator, if this works!"

"Hopefully," Alice couldn't help but grin too as she kept a hold of the projector through a bumpy wave, "Things've been working in our favor _so_ far...still...I can't stop wondering as to how in the _world_ Allison got involved in the studio's trouble. That one was a tough girl with a lot of sense; I thought she'd have escaped it."

"Joey's doin', prob'ly," Boris sighed. "Man's gotta lot t' answer for."

"Ooh, I _swear,_ if I ever meet th' man..." Betty grumbled and gave her palm a loud slap for emphasis before crossing her arms. "It ain't right."

"He ain't your problem now, Betty, don'tcha make it so," the wolf advised with a little chuckle. "_We'll_ have first dibs on 'em. Unless Henry does, then second dibs."

"Save a piece for us," Morty sighed as he kept up his rowing. "Ah well...ever since making it to the toon world, we've all felt a little better about things. It's a blessing in disguise, really...like getting a new life."

"How'dya get on this side anyways?" Boris asked, tilting his head at the Lost One. "Just outta curiosity."

Morty paused. "Y'know, I can't really say. Every one of us at some point has faced going back into the ink void, if we got unlucky enough to get caught by the Ink Demon, or Al-...uh," he paused with a glance at Alice, "Well, just caught...and most of the time we come back as ourselves, sometimes we come back as Searchers...but at some random point, some of us wandered out of this very ink river...and...somehow wound up across _dimensions._"

"Well, th' Machine's ink did create this one..." Alice murmured. "It isn't too impossible for there to be a hidden path. The Searchers _did_ find it too."

"Heh, probably. We didn't even _realize_ it was a different studio until we looked around and noticed how things worked differently, like the projectors. It was Miss Camilla who put it together that we might be in the cartoon's world."

"How's that?" Betty asked next.

"Well, things just looked more...bright, and painted-on...and we actually felt a bit more _cheerful_. Then we saw the real Butcher Gang wandering around arguing with each other," he chuckled. "A-also, one time I saw a rat that stopped, shook its head with a 'tsk-tsk', and walked off again...the sheer weirdness just made me laugh. Suffice it to say, it couldn't be anywhere _but_ the toon world."

"Yeah, that'll do it," laughed Alice, along with everyone else.

"Th' ink river's th' ticket, then..." Boris hummed with thought after he got his mirth out, scratching his chin as he looked into the black depths.

"Yeah...but, it's a risky one," Morty sighed. "Those of us who are made of ink just get pulled back into the void if we touch it for long. Some can make it through, and some get their minds wandering lost until it crawls back into the world, and only at a random point of _either_ place. That's why it'd take a long while to get us _all_ back. Unless we found a _better_ way."

Betty smiled hopefully. "Well, that's what I'm hopin' ta test with my inkwell, then. If we can get Henry across, we can get _anyone_ across."

"Of course, that depends perhaps on what Allison says," Alice sighed, looking thoughtfully down at her gloves. "I hope she didn't turn out like Susie."

"She can't've, if she's wanderin' around with one a' me," Boris pointed out with a guffaw. "This I gotta see."

Morty laughed. "Gee, I _do_ hope this all works out...thankfully, you may have met all the monsters that made it across to the toon world. We won't have any trouble."

"Wonder how much further it is," Betty then mused, peering between the two rowers to get a look ahead. "These tunnels are pretty dark."

Morty grunted again as he stopped his rowing to look ahead. "Shouldn't be too much..."

_RRRRRRRRRRR..._

"...Further. Oh _no._"

The sudden noise was like a cross between a growl and the roar of a boat engine, so encompassing the echoes in the tunnel that it felt like it came from all around them. Morty was shaking, and the toons were looking every which way for the source.

"W-what was that?" Betty whimpered.

"Oh please oh please oh _please_ don't tell me that thing came through too...!" the Lost One whispered harshly as he started rowing again, at a much faster place. "Boris, help me get through here faster, there's only one tunnel left!"

The wolf did as told, but grimaced through his panting. "Morty, what's goin' on?"

"Well, uh...I spoke too soon about not having trouble. There's a beast that lives in the ink river on the other side, and...well...let's just say you _don't_ want to be caught idling."

Alice's eyes narrowed, also looking around behind them in the swells. "How come? What is it?"

_RRRRRRRRR..._

The answer came with another growl and a loud splash of inky water from behind. The toons all slowly looked, only to crane their heads upward at a _massive_ gloved hand, covered in warty protrusions, hovering menacingly with wiggling fingers.

"Holy _moly_...!" Betty cried, while Alice just yelped behind her hands.

"Hang on, time t' haul _outta here_!" Boris yelled and started rowing again, so frantically that his arms were wheeling about as fast as a propeller. With that, the boat's bow briefly lifted from the water before it _shot_ forward, just out of the giant hand's reach as it _slammed_ down onto the surface, where the boat just was.

The force from the impact created a wave that surged on behind the vessel, making it move even further along the darkened path, until finally, land was spotted.

"O-okay, you can stop rowing now!" Morty shouted, having to drop his own oar in the boat and put his hands up to stop the frantic toon, "We're in the shallows on the other side. The beast doesn't go in the shallows."

Boris sagged so much with relief that the boat rocked with his nearly-toppling movement. "Oh thank goodness."

"Oh golly..." Alice breathed out once her heart stopped its nervous pounding, "I'd heard rumors about a beast that hunted in the ink rivers on the very lowest point, but...never thought I'd _see_ it."

Betty was standing up, looking back out into the black, shady depths of both the cavern and the liquid. "Oh my stars...it was just a giant hand! Wasn't even attached ta anythin', was it?"

Morty let out a nervous laugh. "We...don't know, honestly. All we know as that it likes to drag down anything on the surface, and we never see it again."

"Hoo boy..."

"Welp, we can stop worrying about it for now," the Lost One waved off the event like it was nothing and pointed forward. "We're at the far dock."

The toons weren't really expecting to see much in the line of anything once they made it; but there indeed seemed to be an entrance to an underground part of the studio, or something that _would_ have been a part of it, that had been entirely abandoned by a mining team. Several tools and crates were lying about a wall of rock, where a tall, cavernous hole beckoned, framed with rows of steel arches to hold the rock in place. Morty and Boris carefully paddled the few feet needed to reach the shoddy docks, and tied the boat to one of the wooden poles.

"Alright, uh..." Morty awkwardly hummed, "I guess you three can go do your thing; I'll be here waiting to take you back...never been in there before, but I'm _super_ not wanting to find out, so yeah. Good luck on finding your Henry fellow."

"Thank you kindly," Alice huffed as she tried to lift the projector out of the boat, only to have much of the weight relieved by Boris, who'd gotten out first. "We may need it."

The toons couldn't even begin to guess what that tunnel was supposed to be used for, as they traversed through it with a heavy projector that two of them had to carry at a time, and using it on every puddle of ink that they came across. In some nooks, there seemed to be storage crates lying around, and one even had a bed-frame almost half-submerged in a puddle. The section after that had holes in the wall so big and evenly-squared that they likened it to a morgue. It kept sending shivers up Betty's spine, and this time it was Alice who tried to be comforting with a hand to her shoulder and a brave face set up front. The light of her halo still kept any Searchers at bay; plenty of bubbling puddles sat at their feet, but none of them admitted any monsters.

For Alice, that was good; her prayers were so far going answered.

_We're GOING to find you, Henry. I promise._

The projector _did_ work at least; the puddles gave them muddy pictures of a sepia-toned world on the other side, different from the black-and-white tones of their side of the studio, but only in the colors. In the tone, of false hope and forced cheer, the two places were very much the same. In each opened window so far, they listened for activity, found none, and kept going.

The end of the tunnel held what they believed was a storage and rest facility for any underground workers, with rickety cots here and there and lots of random items strewn about. There was only one puddle of ink in a corner, plenty of it flowing down like a cavern stalactite and coalescing on the floor.

"_Please_ let this be it, fer heaven's sake..." Boris grunted as he, with Betty's help, set the back of the thing down into the liquid and let it seep into the power line.

Betty cracked her back as she stood straight again. "Oof..._never _did I have such a workout...I'll do a few rounds a' sittin' on th' couch fer once when I get back."

The wolf guffawed as he fiddled with the switch. "Me, I'mma sleep all th' doggone week."

"Make it a year for me," Alice sighed. "I swear I won't ever sleep again until Bendy's safe."

"We'll get 'im, hon," the famous toonette reassured. "But first, let's get yer Creator. Then there ain't _nothin'_ ya won't be able ta do."

"...That is, if he _wants_ ta help," Boris added with a little whimper as the projector turned on with a loud and echoing _click!_

Betty scoffed. "A' _course_ he will! What true Creator _wouldn't?_"

"Even I believe that now, Boris," Alice smiled, "You must, too."

The wolf just cast his gaze idly to the floor in thought, his ears drooping. _I WANNA believe, I really do...but dangit if Mister Drew didn't __make me skeptical with that word._

As the reels turned and the lights started to flicker on the wall where they pointed their screen, the toons were seeing into the room as it was on the other side...and it was perhaps the most different that they'd yet viewed. It had been made into another safe-house, a bunker, where a little semblance of a living seemed to have been built, with a table and settings, a couple of cots, and even a door that shut them away from the outside cave.

The wall was what drew everyone's attention inside: written with ink, all of the musings that were left by a scattered mind. Notes about the studio, drawings, thoughts, questions...it was like a diary's pages had been lifted to life on the stone.

"Looks like we found it..." Boris started to whisper.

"-Shh!" Alice hissed. "I hear someone."

"I do too, everyone, stay quiet," Betty chided, and they all stood to simply observe like hidden spectators in a theater.

The voice that they heard was down to a mutter, but it came closer with the sound of footfalls. "I think this thing's leading me in circles...it's so strange. I wonder where it even _came_ from...?"

And then, she appeared in the frame: a feminine being of light build and strong countenance, an angel akin in appearance to Susie, but with small horns and her halo worn like a headband with long hair done up in a ponytail. She carried many a tool on a belt like an arsenal, including the very sword that Alice had remembered. Allison, to her surprise as well, had indeed turned into a being of ink: her hands and legs were pitch-black, bound to the stuff like she'd crawled out of it herself a time or two.

"...That's her...I don't believe it...!" Alice said with a gasp, holding her hands up to her mouth. "Oh golly, Allison..."

"She _does_ sound like ya, 'cept deeper," Boris observed. "Same kinda gentle sound."

Betty was about as astounded as her friends to see the once-human voice actress. She vowed to herself that when she got out, she'd spend a little more time with _her_ voice actress. "D'ya think we'll be able t' get her attention?"

Alice started stepping up towards the front of the projection, hesitantly at first, then quickly. "I have to try and see."

The woman on the other side was busily looking around her space and continually whispering to herself, perhaps just to keep more information in her mind for later. The angel at first tried tapping the wall...tapping turned to knocking, then to calling, then to practically shouting.

"Allison! Miss Pendle! It's me, Alice! Can't you hear me? Hello!"

But, her efforts were in vain; it seemed that even though _they_ could see _her, _the same wasn't true on the other side.

Boris and Betty traded glances as they watched the young toonette get more and more frustrated, before the wolf stepped up to lay a comforting glove on her shoulder. "M' sorry, Alice, don't reckon she _can_ hear ya..."

"Welp...maybe we'll hafta say hello ourselves, then," Betty stated, looking around in her bag. "Jus' gotta get out my pen, an' we'll see if our idea works..."

"Wait..." Alice suddenly held up a hand to stop them with a little gasp. "She's looking."

And indeed she was; the other angel was turned to the screen with a _very_ perplexed look on her face right then, holding up a device that she'd been curiously looking through the whole time. It looked like an over-sized magnifying glass, and one built like something from out of a junkyard.

Alice, with a curious hum, decided again to try tapping on the wall. "Hey, can you hear me?"

But there was no response from Allison. Whatever she was confused about, it was nothing she could hear. "Strange," the human-angel murmured, scratching her chin. "What's that supposed to mean? Hm..." she then turned quickly to go off-screen, walking at a brisk pace and disappearing from the room with the looking glass in tow.

"No, wait...! Ooh," the real Alice groaned in frustration, rubbing at her forehead a little before turning back to her friends. "Maybe we _should_ try the direct approach...I don't really _want_ to, but we _have_ to get her attention somehow."

"Don'tcha worry, I got my pen ready," said Betty as she whipped out the large fountain pen from her tiny bag (which made Boris chuckle; it was hard not to enjoy when the toonette used her impossible powers), "Jus' gimme th' word, and I'll draw us a door."

"Hang on," Alice held her hand up again, "She's coming back, I think."

And indeed, there she appeared...and to boot, helping to carry a large projector of her own. She was walking backward into the room, and her helper—another Boris, to the wolf's shock—was lifting the other side of it and giving his companion a questioning look.

"Well I'll be!" Boris exclaimed. "Sammy was right; a clone a' me! Hrm...betcha he can't talk either, though."

"An' look!" Betty pointed with a gasp. "He's got a metal arm!"

_"What?"_

"Everyone hush!" Alice ordered with a wave of her hand; Allison was speaking again, though for some reason her voice wasn't raised above a whisper.

"Here, Tom, let's set it here," the woman huffed and made eye contact with her toon-like companion, who was still giving her a skeptical head-tilt. "It's what the glass says on that wall: 'projector here'. The ones we got from the Projectionist's lair seem to have weird properties, if they can run in the ink. I wanna give running this one a try, see what happens."

The Boris, apparently called Tom, just blinked, gave a soundless sigh, and nodded.

"'Tom'? Why's she callin' him that?" the real wolf scratched his head.

"Gotta be an explanation," Betty patted his arm. "We might find out here in a sec."

Alice's eyes widened. "Oh...they're going to aim a projector back at us! Boris, that _has_ to be how it was set up on Mister Drew's side!"

"Golly, yer right!" the wolf gaped. "I did see projectors when I managed t' get through on my own..."

"Ooh...I _gotta _see how this works!" Betty clapped, then blinked with realization. "Ooh, but I better get outta th' light here first."

The other two looked back toward her, questioning. "Why, Betty? You oughta see this too!" Boris insisted.

"Yeah, you're one of us," Alice smiled.

The famous toonette just gave a little giggle and waved her hand. "Naw, that's sweet a' ya, but I still oughta be outta th' frame...yer prob'ly about t' meet another one a' yer creators. It's like it was with Sammy; _yer_ more familiar to 'em than me. An' I know better than to stand in another star's spotlight...so go on kids, wow 'em, let 'em see ya!"

At this, Alice gave a wide, but shy grin. "Oh, I _do_ hope this works...I'm so very nervous..."

"Let's jus' be ourselves, Alice," Boris said as he came up next to her with a smile of his own. "We'll see what happens...an' I'll be here t' pull ya back this time if'n things go south."

With that, on the other side, Allison gave a hum as they set up the projector's alignment and she found the switch. "Let's see what happens...but let's be quiet. Our guest's still sleeping."

At the mention of the mysterious guest, Tom seemed to scowl deeper as he lightly clapped his toon-glove fist into his metal hand with a _clack_ in a threatening gesture.

"No, you _won't_ disturb him," Allison chided. "It's enough we locked him up and don't know what to do with him, the poor guy. We'll figure it out later. Let's do this."

And before the toons could wonder any more about the nature of the conversation, the switch on the other side was flipped, just as echoing and encompassing as on their side. With it came a _flash_ that practically blinded everyone involved on both sides.

When the toons' visions appeared again, they were looking still at the running, more brightly-bordered projector screen, now with the two on the other side looking rather perplexed.

"It's...it's one of the cartoons!" Allison tilted her head. "How's that happening? The film in the reel's blank."

Tom, in response, didn't seem to have a clue either as he rested his chin on his fingers and his elbow on his metal arm, foot tapping as if impatiently.

The toons themselves, blinking and standing still at first, stepped forward after a beat. Alice waved her hand with a cheerful smile. "Um, hello! Can you see and hear us now?"

"_Oh my word!_" the other angel jumped back slightly and put her hand on the hilt of her makeshift sword. "Are they...speaking to _us?_"

Tom's fists clenched a little, and he stood in front of Allison, the look on his face demanding an explanation.

"Howdy," Boris was next to speak with a wave. "Uh, an' yeah, we _are_ speakin' to ya, from in th' Toon World! I'm sure ya know who we are. An' we know you too!"

At this, Allison's jaw practically dropped, while Tom still kept up his defensive staring. Carefully, she let go of her weapon and went up a step. "Okay...this is either a _very_ strange dream, or we've stumbled onto a breakthrough!" she spoke with an amazed, but still hushed, tone. "But...how? _How_ can you guys speak to us? We didn't think the cartoons could _actually_ come to life. They're illusions."

"Oh believe me, we were as shocked as _you_ were when we found out we could look and hear into the real world," Alice explained with a smile. "We have our own version of your studio on our side, that we've been trapped in. Long story. But now...we have a way to get people who are trapped on _your_ side out."

The flabbergasted ink creatures traded glances with each other for a moment, with Tom giving a _very_ suspicious quirk of an eyebrow back.

"...I know it sounds crazy, but...I promise we're tellin' th' truth," Boris ventured with a cautious smile. "We all waited so long t' meet our creators...an' now we are, an' we know your whole story, an' we wanna help."

"...Help? Our story?" Allison stepped closer, her hands on her hips. "_We_ don't even know our story. Tom and I seem to have just been...born here. There are...flashes of things, sometimes, sure...of another life...but...it doesn't seem _real_, or even like _ours_. The only thing we also really feel is that we shouldn't be here." Her eyes narrowed. "How do we know you aren't an elaborate trick?"

"...We're replying to your every word," Alice pointed out. "Shouldn't that be proof that this is real?"

"Sorry," Allison's head shook, "It's just...things down here aren't trustworthy, not all of it. It's hard to take anything at face value, especially something as strange as _this _happening."

"Completely understandable," the angel nodded. "That _is_ what Mister Lawrence said too, when he got here."

"...Mister Lawrence?" the woman's eyes narrowed again.

"Sammy," Boris supplied.

"Sa..." Allison blinked, jaw dropping again, and this time with Tom doing the same. "_Sammy?_ As in the Ink Demon's lackey, leader of the Lost Ones and Searchers, _that_ Sammy?"

"I-I know how it sounds, but please, listen!" Alice pleaded, clasping her hands together in front of her. "Sammy's changed now! He remembers who he was, and he was one of our creators too! The music director. And _you..._" the angel smiled widely, "You gave me my voice, Allison."

That was when the woman reeled back again a little, giving a gasp. "...Allis...on? That...oh my God, that name...it...it's familiar."

"It's you, ma'am," Boris revealed with a shy expression, "Yer real name. That oughta be proof fer ya...like we said, we _know_ you...the people of our studio. Th' people who brought life t' us on this side. Please, y'gotta believe us."

At this news, there was another long beat of silence as Allison took this all in. Tom's hard expression softened a little as he watched his companion with a bit of concern, and he seemed to be in thought as well, as if it were all making some form of sense.

"I..." Allison whimpered once she came to, looking into the toons' eyes with wonder...the kind of wonder that they were made to see. "I...think I _do_ believe you. I don't remember having my name, but...it's still familiar. Too familiar to forget again. Yeah...Allison. That feels like it works. And..." she furrowed her brow, "You say Sammy's...different? And over _there_ now?"

"Yeah!" Boris nodded. "Turns out th' Searchers an' Lost Ones have been slowly crossin' over t' our side, an' gettin' back their ol' minds in th' process. Sammy stumbled on th' path back by accident, an' it took 'im some kinda headache, but he's more himself again."

"...Huh," she locked eyes with her companion again. "How 'bout that, Tom? Everyone's actually...escaping. Maybe not _this_ place, per se...but a place in the..._cartoon_. Intriguing. Wonder how we didn't stumble on it before?"

"Ah, well..." the wolf nervously scratched his neck, "Y'wouldn't've found it if'n y' stayed away from th' ink void. Searchers an' Lost Ones that somehow died an' were findin' their ways out were...doin' so on our side."

"Oh," the woman harshly sighed and shook her head, while Tom nearby did so with his eyes hidden in his gloved palm. "Here I was starting to hope a little more."

"Well...there _might_ be a better way," Alice spoke up then. "And...that's why we came to find you. We need your help."

"As always, a catch," Allison chuckled. "But...this _could_ be our best option now to set ourselves free. What do a bunch of toons need _our_ help for?"

"Well..." Alice paused as she thought of about a million ways to ask and just grasped for one, "...We know you know your way around the Lost Ones' lairs. _And_ that you might actually...have one of our creators there somewhere with you."

"We do?" Allison and Tom both tilted their heads. "Who's that?"

"The true Creator of our world, and us," the angel smiled hopefully. "Mister Henry Stein."

The woman and her wolf traded wide-eyed glances again. "...He did say his name was Henry..." Allison mused. "And you wanna help him too, I imagine?"

"Very much so, Miss," Boris nodded. "One a' our other Creators was already lost to that place, maybe more of 'em...we wanna help all we can. An' Henry as a true Creator, an animator, would have a lotta ways t' help on _this_ side. Namely t' help the last of us that's trapped here somewhere."

"...Guessing that's the little demon, Bendy. Since I don't see him there with you."

"Ayup."

The scowl returned to Tom's face again, but he crossed his arms and turned to Allison, awaiting her word on the matter.

The human-angel hummed. "So...how exactly _would_ you get Henry...and probably _us_...outta here? Assuming we _have_ got him."

"We have another toon with us, from another studio," Alice said with a giggle. "She has a real honest-to-gosh Creator's inkwell with her, and with it she helped us out of where we were trapped here. She can create a portal through this projection, right now."

"That is, if you an' Tom 'r willin' ta try," the wolf chuckled shyly. "Like we said, we wanna help, an' that includes you two, an' all th' Lost Ones."

Allison shook her head. "The Lost Ones here won't listen to us. They don't like angels. Thankfully, we got rid of the bad one, at least."

At that, Alice flinched. "I...I know. I was...in her head. But...you helped set me free because of that, so...I owe you a lot of thanks, Allison."

The woman huffed, but there was a quirk of a smile on her lip. "Don't thank me...I don't think I'm any sort of angel myself. As for the offer...give us a second."

With that, she and Tom turned their backs on the toons to converse on the matter. The two of them seemed to communicate very well with each other, despite only one being able to speak. Boris had to hum. "Wonder if Tom's also another former worker."

"I think he was," Alice nodded. "I do remember an engineer from another company working for Mister Drew. The only Tom I know of: Thomas Connor."

"Oh yeah, Mister Connor...shoot, not gonna lie, th' guy's scowl reminds me a' him."

"Has to be him, then."

The conversation seemed to be a heated one, though they could barely hear through the hushed whispers. Tom seemed adamant not to trust anything of this, but Allison was adamant to at least give it a try. His posture softened as he gave it some thought. Then, with a snap of his finger like he had an idea, he pointed outward to the door. A beat passed, then Allison nodded, and the two of them turned back to the projector, and the toons' eager faces.

"Just one more question," Allison started. "Where's Sammy now?"

Alice hummed. "We last left him in the Lost Ones' shanty town over on this side. He _could_ still be there, but...I should warn that he said he'd keep the Ink Demon busy while we were gone. Knowing his powers, of course...he could be anywhere."

"Hm. Could still work. Okay, here's the deal," the former actress pointed, "If you're really sincere, then we're going to just ask a show of proof. We'll take our projectors and meet you guys back at the shanty town. Have Sammy meet us and _show_ us he's changed...he's the best bet of making the remaining Lost Ones see reason, if he is. We try your portal trick..._and_ we'll have Henry with us."

Alice looked rather unsure at the terms, and she turned to the wolf. "It..._sounds_ like it could work."

"I don't like th' odds of '_sounds'_," Boris hummed. "But...these guys _are _pretty reasonable. We ain't got much t' lose, an' all th' more t' gain if it _does_ work."

"...You're right." Alice turned to the former humans with a serious look on her face. "Alright...we'll hold our end of the bargain, if _you_ hold to _yours_ and bring Henry in one piece. 'Cause I'll tell you right now, _this_ little angel is _not_ going to lose any more than I have already."

Allison blinked in surprise and laughed, a sound which briefly had the toon's own chime to it. "Yeah...I can definitely see myself having voiced a spitfire like you...Alice Angel. Don't worry...we'll hold our end. I promise."

"Then it's a deal," Alice confirmed with a perky thumbs-up. "I'd shake your hand, but, y'know," she tapped the screen lightly with her knuckles, "Fourth wall."

That got a chuckle out of everyone present (except for an impatient huff from Tom), and with a nod, the parties on both sides of the reel turned their backs.

Betty, who'd been bouncing on her toes and barely containing her excitement from nearby, let out a little happy squeal when the meeting was done. "Ooh, this is gonna be so _interesting!_ I can't wait for ya t' meet more a' yer people, at last!"

Alice had to giggle. "Even _if_ our people have been changed with cursed ink." She couldn't stop the smile she had. "I'm so glad Allison hasn't turned out like Susie."

"Well, we still gotta make it happen, so let's get a-movin'," Boris announced as the projector turned off with a swift _click_ and he reached down to pick it up again, with Betty trotting over to give him a hand and Alice leading the way back.

It seemed like a shorter walk than before back to the boat. Morty, who'd probably gotten a little bored and antsy just sitting there on the lapping ink sea, was now waiting for them on land next to the dock. He perked up from his slouched position when the toons came exiting the darkness. "Oh, good, you're back, I was starting to wonder about you guys. Any luck...? I don't see Henry with you."

Boris grunted as he hefted the projector. "Well, th' good news is, we made contact with th' other side, an' th' other angel, Allison."

"The other good news is, she has Henry!" Alice happily exclaimed with a little bob on her toes.

"Buuut," Betty finished with a little eyeroll, "We hafta meet 'em again back at th' town. They wanna see Sammy, so's they can get th' rest a' yer pals t' follow him in, an' _then_ they'll give us Henry. _Wow_, that sounds _so_ very dire, like we're rescuin' a prisoner 'r something."

Alice chuckled. "I'm sure if he's a prisoner, it's not out of malice. Would _you_ blindly trust a stranger, if you were down here for that long?"

Betty thoughtfully hummed. "Well...y'trusted _me._"

"Heh, things are changing," Morty mused with a laugh. "Here, I'll help ya get that on the boat..."

But he hadn't taken two steps forward, when suddenly, a figure exploded from out of the ink...not the giant hand-beast, but a figure much smaller...and _so much_ worse.

The toons practically dropped the projector as they all backed up several steps.

"Oh _no...!"_

"EEK!"

"Not him, anyone but _him_...!"

The room itself was bathed in shifting shadows as the Ink Demon dropped forward with a loud hiss, his heartbeat filling the ears of all around, and his gloved hand shot out to the side to nab Morty by the neck.

"AAAAH! The _Demon_!" he choked as he was briefly lifted in the air and tried to weakly pry at the creature's grip. "No, please, _please...!_"

"Morty!" Boris yelled, and just about shot forward toward him, only to be held back on both his arms by Betty and Alice. "No! Please, let 'im go!"

The Ink Demon simply stood there in the wavy shallows, tall and imposing, as he seemed to consider the plea...and he _did_ let Morty go, by way of a swift _fling_ back into the ink river.

"_NO!_"

"AAAH!" the Lost One screamed, the echoes of his voice the last thing to linger as he splashed into the darkness.

"Oh, oh nononono..." Betty whimpered, hands to her mouth in horror as she backed away with the other two. The monstrous Demon, his forced grin quivering, raining ink in his wake, started on a slow hobble towards the toons.

"I thought Sammy was takin' care a' him..." Boris whimpered.

Alice was breathing harshly, frozen with fear; she never did get rid of the shiver she had from the first time she met the creature, and from what he did. "...Something might've happened to Sammy, then..."

"Oh, say it ain't so," the wolf whined. "An' we're next...nowhere t' run..."

The Demon looked unrelenting in his slow advance, his gloved hand raised again in preparation to nab the nearest toon. The ink puddles around him shook with his apparent annoyance...fury...whatever it was he was feeling that made him want to confront them.

Boris and Betty still backed away with fear...but Alice, at that moment, stopped. She was shaking like a leaf, looking up into the inky visage of her little friend's doppelganger, an abomination made in the cursed ink of a fake Creator. She gulped as he approached still, but her halo glowed a little brighter...she had to try something. Had to know.

"Stop..."

He appeared not to hear the command. His gloved hand raised to strike, her halo flashed brightly...

"Bendy, please, _don't!_"

...And he froze.

There was a long, tense moment when _everything_ froze. Boris and Betty watched right behind her, the two having taken out their respective weapons. Alice was breathing like she was about to sob, her eyes wide and bright.

And the Demon's aura quelled...much to their disbelief, the shadows slowly vanished. It was hard to tell, but...he seemed to regard her with confusion, as his hand drew slightly back.

"Bendy...I don't know if you're in there, but...you gotta remember us...don't you?" she asked with a broken voice. "Don't...don't you remember _me_?"

Betty's hands were clasped together, a quick prayer playing in her head that nothing bad would happen. "Alice..." Boris whispered in warning, urging her not to get closer.

But she did anyway, just one step, and a short, pleading reach of her hand. "This monster isn't you..."

This seemed to snap the Demon out of his frozen state, as suddenly he reared back from them with a loud hiss, holding his head with both hands as he backed up to a portion of the cave wall. A black portal opened to admit him, and he kept backing up, out of sight until he was swallowed by the darkness...vanishing, as always, without a trace.

A long few seconds passed as everything went still. Alice, hands clasped, was staring after where he disappeared, looking very conflicted; she didn't know whether to feel dejected, relieved, sad...it only told her that she _really_ wanted her little Bendy back.

"...C'mon," Boris said, breaking the silence as he rapidly shook his head and went to pick the projector back up. "If he's able t' hang around here after all, then we've _gotta _go back to th' town."

Betty was more than a little shaken, but she nodded her head, pausing in going back to the boat only to grab Alice by the wrist to tug her along with them, and to jar her out of her own spell.

Suddenly...things seemed _much_ more urgent.


	6. Chapter 6

((AN: And finally, back with the next chapter! I apologize for the long wait on this one; I'd hoped to write the chapters quickly and put them up week-by-week as planned, but I've completely run out of buffer and now just writing as I go...and as long as these get, it'd take a while to do. x3 But at least it gives me time to make sure these chapters come out as well as I can try to make them.

So now we have our heroes again...along with some more familiar faces, and the appearance of a special one. :3 I sorta gave a slightly vague description for Henry on purpose, as there are a lot of good headcanon appearances for our faceless game protagonist; so, I might as well let the fans imagine their own versions of him in the scenario.

There's not much to really say about this one, so I thought I'd go ahead and give a nice little shout-out to my reviewers, who all had such lovely things to say about the story!

TheAmazingAuthoress: Thank you so much for your lovely words! I'm glad you enjoy my story, and I hope it keeps entertaining! ^^

Dawn: Glad you enjoy! I'd LOVE to see artwork of the story actually. XD But I'm really just happy to have some nice words about my work. ^^

theAlmostPorcupine: Much obliged for the welcome! Always happy to dip my toe into the community pool of stories. :3

foxchick1: Hope you're still enjoying, glad you found the story! ^^

With that, on with the show, and stay tuned in for the hopefully thrilling conclusion, in progress! ))

* * *

Chapter 6

While everything else was going on, a certain trio of toons were mulling around inside the gate that marked the entrance to the lot of Joey Drew Studios. Having had quite the time getting themselves out once they were pointed in the right direction, fighting off a few Searchers along the way (though Barley would turn the few into a horde of them in subsequent stories about it), the Butcher Gang were more than eager to leave the place behind them and return to their own world.

Except, with a look around...they had soon noticed that their world was _very_ different indeed.

Now, with an angry and thoughtful thousand-yard stare out onto the empty road and dirty wasteland of the area all around the dark building, Charley was leaning with his front against the fence and his arms crossed, while Edgar was kicking a few rocks around in the lot, even using them with a makeshift slingshot against a few soup cans on the fence. Every so often though, the young spider would cast worried glances back at the building, and then over at the quiet leader of the gang, and the question that was forming in his mind would be quickly forgotten.

Soon however, Barley came stomping back up the road with a loud grumble.

It jarred Charley out of his daydreaming, at least. "There y' are. Any luck?"

"Arr, not a pittance," Barley growled as he adjusted his pipe and kicked angrily at a part of the fence. "Ain't many people a' millin' around here, an' th' few that are, they haven't a _clue_ about any part a' our world. S'like it vanished inta thin air."

"We _were_ down there a while," Edgar piped up as he joined Charley by the fence. "Maybe our world's not here anymore."

"Eh," the well-dressed Butcher leader mused with his chin in his palm, "Or maybe we came out into th' dreaded Defunct Land."

"Aaarrrr, say it ain't so!" Barley snarled and pulled at what was left of his hair. "It couldn'ta been _that_ long!"

"Oh, stow yer whining," Charley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That _has_ ta be it. Our world's disappeared in th' span of a few years, not even a familiar pile a' rocks...only_ this_ junkyard of a studio. Well, if the others _do_ manage ta get out, they're in fer a real _shocker, _that's fer sure. Ain't nothin' ta go back _to_."

Edgar pouted. "S'no fun watching _them_ get all worked up if _we_ have to, too."

"Whaddya reckon we do then?" The old sailor asked as he turned to the side and spat on the ground. "Jus' look fer a place ta eke out a livin'?"

There was a thoughtful beat as the trio went silent; and when they did, there was a sudden sound that echoed from the inside of the studio that made them all jump and turn. It sounded like a deep, faraway impact, like something was _ramming_ into the walls and making them shudder to their very core, though there was barely a shiver from the building itself to denote such an impact.

"Sounds like somethin' in there is on a rampage," Charley observed with a quirked eyebrow.

"Ooh," Edgar frowned, "I wonder if Miss Boop an' them are okay. Hope they found the others and are getting out too."

"What, ya suddenly worried about 'em?" Charley huffed. "Th' studio's _their_ problem now."

"Aarrr...yeh, but fer once, I'm on th' kid's level," said Barley as he took his pipe from between his teeth and eyed the building. "There still be a heap a' trouble goin' on. Can't help but ponder as to their fate."

Shyly, the spider tapped his front legs together. "This might sound crazy, but...maybe we should go back and help?"

His two companions gave him a quirked eyebrow, traded glances, and frowned in his direction. "What _for?_ That place is full a' nothin' but monsters. We got out, an' we're done," Charley crossed his arms.

"Yeah, but...we ain't got nowhere to go," Edgar argued. "And the only other toons we always knew are trapped in there. It's just not the same without them."

"Mmmh...th' whelp's got a point, 'e does," Barley hummed. "Better that toons a' th' same crew stick t'gether."

"Oh, you don't even know how t' swab a deck, an' yer sayin' them jerks are like a boat crew?" Charley snorted. "I _still_ don't see th' point a' goin' back fer the ones that always wreck our plans."

It was then that Edgar got a decisive look on his face. "Well, you guys can do what you want..._I'm_ going back in. I wanna help 'em, especially Miss Boop. If she can help the others, she can help _us_."

"Heh, whaddya say, Cap'n?" Barley grinned with a little elbow jab to the leader. "A second chance a' showin' th' lady that yer more sophisticated than a lubber in ratty coattails, eh? Ya used ta _jump_ at any chance at an opportunity a' fame. B'sides which, like th' kid said...there's nothin' ta do up here. Might as well do nothin' along with th' others a' our world, until Miss Boop can lend 'er ink ta th' cause."

Charley hummed and tapped his foot while he thought over things. He was almost _certain_ that going back to that Hell would mean a chance of never coming back. But after having another look around their dismal wasteland, around which used to be a bustling city block full of people and riches, it was clear that _maybe_ it was better fighting for a place to come back _to_.

Finally, he closed his eyes and sighed through his teeth, picking the spider up by the nape of the neck like a kitten. "Edgar, yer stayin' with us. _I'm_ th' leader, an' _I_ decide where we go." Then, he smirked. "An' we're goin' back for those jerks."

"Hooray!" the youngster squeaked with all feet clapping together, "We're gonna be heroes!"

"I likes th' sound a' that," Barley grinned and rubbed his hands together. "Glory an' riches."

"Glory nuthin', heroes nuthin'," the leader huffed as he dropped the spider again. "I just wanna have our home back. Boys, grab yer weapons. Let's show 'em how ta _really_ raise Hell."

* * *

The boat ride back was incredibly tense; as the toons rowed as fast as they could go through the meandering tunnels, they were more than expecting the hand-beast to make an appearance, at least to follow along in the wake and wait for a chance to bring them under.

But...there wasn't even a hint of noise as to its presence. There was the fleeting consideration that the Ink Demon, while he traveled through the void to get to them, had disposed of the beast...or perhaps, it was in hiding from the monster. Either way, the trio were thankful for _that_ much luck, and were mostly silent on the way back.

They arrived at the dock to see the town of Lost Ones as lively as ever, some of them fishing off the side of the river and some others keeping watch for any sign of their comrades that waited to be coming through. Once the boat was docked, Camilla spotted them and came running.

"Oh good, you're back!" she breathed out. "I'm gettin' pretty eager to see what comes of all this. C'mon, tell me what happened and..." Suddenly, she went quiet and looked around, before slowly turning back to them. "...I thought you'd have Henry with you? And where's Morty?"

They each had regretful looks as they climbed out with the projector slowly in tow. "'Fraid we had a bit of a run-in," Betty explained with a timid look, her hands behind her back. "Th' Ink Demon found us, an' tossed Morty back in th' river."

A few of the nearby Lost Ones who overheard gasped in unison and started murmuring, and no doubt the word of the Ink Demon would spread to the rest. Camilla was frozen in shock for a few moments...her voice was quivering with both sadness for Morty and fear for everyone else. "Th-the Demon? But...but h-how? _How?_ I never thought he _liked_ coming down in our parts, or ever s-saw the _need_ to..."

"S'what we thought too," Boris grunted as he and Alice set their weight down and faced her. "But he was there, all th' same...thankfully, Alice was somehow able t' ward 'im off."

"I...don't know if it was _me_, Boris..." the angel said, looking very troubled. "But, at any rate...before that, we _did_ manage to speak to Allison. She _does_ have Henry, and made a deal with us...meet her _here_, and open the portal, and she'll send him through."

"Yer forgettin' somethin', Alice..." Boris reminded her with a grimace before looking back at Camilla. "Where's Sammy right now?"

"Oh, he left not long after you did..." Camilla said, suddenly a bit hesitant. "It's been about an hour; we haven't heard from him since. He could be anywhere in the..." suddenly, she grasped the full urgency of the situation with a gasp. "He was supposed to distract the Demon...you don't think...?"

"We don't want to say it," Alice interrupted. "Just, please, try to find him if you guys can, look all over..."

She was interrupted right then with a loud _BANG_, metallic and echoing, that seemed to be going on above all of their heads in the recesses of the studio proper.

"...The Demon's rampaging...we can hear him do that sometimes, though we don't know why," Camilla said with a whisper. "_Something_ has him disturbed."

The angel had determination set on her features, her pie-cut eyes dangerously narrowed. "Then we have no time to lose. We _have_ to set up the projector, and somewhere that Allison and Tom would set theirs."

"Tom?" the Lost One tilted her head.

"Seems Mister Thomas Connor became a clone a' me," Boris relayed with a little snort.

Camilla echoed it. "Ah...I very much remember _him_. Seems fitting...especially considering he's with Allison. And...yeah, you're right...well, if they're expecting Sammy, maybe they'll set up in his shack...that or on the dock, against the cave wall, away from the village's general interest."

Another _BANG_ made the others crane their heads upward. Alice sighed. "We can't risk having the Ink Demon try to come back down here. We'll try the shack...close it up, and I'll ward it. The rest of you have to hide until it's safe. If Sammy _hasn't_ been caught, then we'll have to trust that he'll be back."

Without even a command from Camilla, the Lost Ones that heard the conversation would immediately heed Alice's directions and spread the word to go back inside and lock the doors until the coast was clear; even the single utterance of the word "Demon" sent them running.

As for the former receptionist/animator herself, she insisted on staying with the toons. Quickly as their feet would take them through the loud commotion going on above, sometimes near and sometimes far, they ran across to the head of the little town and tried to set up inside, while Alice took a moment to draw the symbol of a halo on a hastily-made door (a giant wood plank that about covered the entrance).

A single electric light flickered inside as they settled in, along with a few scattered candles at their feet; thankfully, there was just enough room for the projector to make a nice-sized square of its own illumination on the side wall when it was turned on. The ink flowed through its power cord, the blank reel inside acting as a conduit to allow a picture to form: the picture of the inside of the same shack on the other side, only facing outward so that they could see a little of the village.

And to their relief, it looked like Allison and Tom had the same idea, looking winded as the one-armed wolf set it up on their side while the human-angel kept a watch out into the town and the sight of the troubled Lost Ones watching them.

"Look at all those others," Camilla whimpered as she clasped her hands. "I swear...if Sammy doesn't show up to convince them, _I'll_ go out there and do it."

Right then, the clamorous sounds of the Ink Demon's rage seemed to echo on _that_ side, too...made all the more real by the two swerving their heads upon hearing it, to witness the army of ink people shambling back to their own doors. "The Ink Demon's here somewhere...Tom, let's hurry; if this works, we'll have a better chance of getting out of here." Then, she called out the door. "Henry! In here, hurry!"

As his name was called, the toons all watched on with wonder. Boris comfortingly held Alice's shoulders, the two of them shaking in anticipation, while Betty stayed next to them with a hand on Boris's wrist.

Then, quickly, in stepped a man that looked to be in his late forties to early fifties in age, and yet still believably fit enough to have braved the studio's messes on his own. He seemed all the worse for wear, splotches of ink covering the bottoms of his trousers and shoes and randomly darkening his shirt and places on his skin. His short hair was a mess and he was sporting the beginnings of a beard from his no-doubt long stay, but in his eyes there was a weathered exhaustion, something that told he _was_ afraid of his surroundings and circumstances, everything he'd gone through...but far too tired to show it, determined instead to just fight through whatever he could.

"Henry..." Alice whimpered, smiling as tears threatened to sting her eyes. "Oh golly...he _is_ okay..."

"Our Creator..." Boris whispered in awe and sniffed, fighting back his own tears. "I ain't seen hide or hair a' him fer my entire life, an' now there he is, plain as day, Alice, plain as day!"

"Ooh, I _knew_ you guys had a true Creator that wasn't that ol' Joey Drew, I just _knew_ it," Betty gleefully clapped, and then opened her bag again for her pen. "Oh gosh, I'd better be ready with this thing."

They watched as, on the other side, Tom got the projector finally set up, but had his finger paused on the button as Allison carefully ushered the man inside, giving one more look around. "Okay..._he's_ gone quiet, but who knows how long that'll take. We'd better make sure this thing works, and hope that they had the same idea to try the shack."

"...I still can hardly believe what you said," Henry said as he faced the human-angel with his arms crossed and a questioning furrow of his eyebrows. "The cartoon characters themselves talking to you? Probably not the strangest thing I'd have seen down here, but still..."

Suddenly, Tom whirled around and raised his right fist in a rather threatening way. Allison was quick to put her hand between it and his face, however. "Tom, relax; if this works, we'll _all_ be out of trouble. You should try to give him a _little_ trust, since he hasn't run off yet."

The wolf seemed to slowly acquiesce, but kept his eyes on the man as he lowered his fist, and then he quickly turned his back on him with his arms crossed.

"He certainly doesn't have to speak to get his words across," Henry calmly observed, with just the _slightest_ hint of humor in his tone.

Allison sighed. "Anyway, it's true, I promise it is. It's something I'm putting a lot of hope in right now." She reached onto her belt and grabbed the seeing-eye glass, holding it up to the wall with a hum. "Doesn't say anything this time...but it's still worth a shot. We'll try every surface here if we have to, permitting the Lost Ones allow us."

"They don't seem to want to hurt _me_," Henry assured. "It's _you_ they're glaring at."

"Well, without Sammy, they don't have much of a path to follow other than their own," she said. "We'll see what he says, if what the toons say is true."

"Hardly believe _that_, either..."

"I think you will," Allison countered with a smile, and the toons could feel that she was putting a lot of effort into her hope, even through the screen...it made all of their own hearts a little warmer, and a little more willing to believe anything.

She reached up and pushed the button. "Here goes nothing."

The flash that came was as blinding as before, causing those on both sides to quickly shield their eyes as the projectors worked together to come into focus. The rest of the room seemed to go dark as the two groups opened their eyes again, finally to glimpse at the bright open window.

"Oh, by God, it worked," Allison could be heard breathing in relief as the toons came to, each looking up. "There they are, Henry."

The man's jaw was hanging open, working to form words from a choking, disbelieving throat, and couldn't...at the same time, the toons were standing silently, in reverent awe, with Betty awkwardly standing a little off to the side with her hands behind her back. She was waiting for someone to say _something_...though she couldn't be impatient, even in jest. This was a big moment.

As before, Boris was the one to break the heavily-pregnant pause with a wave and a jovial (though emotional) smile. "H-hey again, guys! An' hey, Henry...good t' finally meetcha!"

"Yes, very much a pleasure," Alice said next with her little curtsy.

Henry was still trying to find his words, but the corner of his lip did tug back into a smile as he awkwardly waved back. "I-I really don't believe this...I...it's really you guys? I'm not dreaming?"

"Yeah, it's really us!" Boris gleefully nodded. "Yer toons! We been waitin' t' meet our Creator fer so long...our _real_ one..."

"I do imagine you have questions for us," Alice giggled.

"...Yeah, a _ton_, actually," said the man as he seemed to snap out of his daze, a full smile now on his face as he straightened up and went up to the screen, placing his hand there, palm pressed onto it like it was pressed onto glass. Boris and Alice followed suit, placing their gloved hands over his own on their side, and feeling only the wall.

Henry was breathing a little shallowly at this point through his wide grinning. "My God...my own characters are _actually _communicating...alive, through the projector... How the heck is this possible? And...what are you doing here anyway? And why did these guys say you need my help? And..." he frowned suddenly, one hand going up into his hair, as the _full_ extent of his situation dawned on him. "And what the _hell_ did Joey _do?!_"

"Mister Henry, relax!" Boris raised his hands and chuckled. "I know this all seems _real_ confusin'...heck, it's confusin' ta _us_, too! I think we can answer everythin', at least, from _our_ view a' things..."

"But...not here," Alice interjected. "I know it's a lot to take in, but...please, listen. We _do_ need your help...but to do that...you'll have to come over to _our_ side of the reel. _Our_ world."

"..._Your_ world."

"That is..." Boris nervously rubbed the back of his neck, "If ya could, we'd really 'ppreciate it..."

"Waitwaitwait..." the man waved his hands. "You're saying I can not only _talk_ to you...but actually...step _into_ your world."

"Well...the world that the toons inhabit together, yes," Alice nodded, her smile wide and hopeful. "I know it sounds impossible, but...we might have a way to open a way in, right here."

That was when Betty took that moment as her cue to step in with a flourish and a wave, holding her ink pen in one arm like one would carry a musket. "Hey there! Good ta meetcha, Mister Henry!" she said with a wink.

He then barked a surprised laugh, while behind him, Allison and Tom traded confused looks. "You're _kidding _me! Now I _know_ this is real, and not something concocted by Joey, or something...he'd have _never_ had a cameo, even from Fleischer, he was too full of himself...oh _wow_...Miss Boop, it's an honor, I gotta say."

"An' not only that, I got Uncle Max's inkwell! Been doin' wonders here so far, now I'm bettin' it can getcha...an' the other people..._outta_ that dingy studio. Waddya say?"

"...I think I might have to sit down..."

"Alright, time out for a second," Allison then piped up and stepped in front of a slightly-dazed Henry, while Tom could be seen crossing his arms in the back, "I hate to be interrupting, I really do, but...you guys still have _your_ part of the agreement. Where's Sammy?"

"Actually, I'll keep standing for a minute," Henry quipped from the sidelines at that.

The toons, however, lost their good humor for the moment, and traded guilty glances between themselves. Boris was wringing his fingers nervously. "Well, ya see, Miss Allison...we don't know where he is right now...some a' th' Lost Ones 'r searchin' fer him, but...see, after we talked to ya, we had an unfortunate run-in with..." he gulped, "Th' Ink Demon."

Three sets of eyes widened on the other side. "But...you said Sammy was trying to...oh, but then...oh no..."

"Yeah...we managed to fend him off, but...I don't know for sure, but the outlook isn't good for Sammy," Alice shook her head, and clasped her hands in a plea. "Can't we still try this? Please? We'll still let _you_ out too...and the Lost Ones on _our_ side can help the others, maybe."

"I know _I_ can try," Camilla then said with a raised hand as she stepped in. "Hello, by the way."

Henry stared in response to the ink-figure entering the conversation. "...She sounds familiar."

"Oh, believe me, you might find a few of us here that you remember," she chuckled. "We've got one big story for you, Mister Stein."

Henry hummed. "Well...sounds like it might be the kind of story I've been waiting to hear."

And then, before anyone could get another word out, suddenly there was another loud _smash_ that came from outside the shack on the real side, and into the village. A cacophony of crunching metal rang out through the cavern, along with several _splats_ that told of ink beings being tossed against the walls and ground, out of the way of whatever was coming. Those who could scream were doing so as they ran, trying to find their own hiding places.

Allison and Tom were already standing at the entrance, the former with her sword out and the latter producing the ax that had been hanging on his back. "It's the Demon," the human-angel said through gritted teeth in frustration. "He's tossing anything—any_one—_he comes across away like trash!"

"Oh no, no..." Camilla whimpered, covering the space where her mouth would be as her head shook. "Oh please, _please_ let most of them come here through the ink void, don't let them be lost, oh dear God, please..."

"There there, Camilla," Betty said, immediately holding her calmly by the shoulders as she turned back to the others. "Oh, can't we open th' way now? We need ta get everyone outta there!"

"Oh, Allison, please!" Alice pleaded, both hands flat against the screen. "I have the shack warded against this side; you at least have to save yourselves, and Henry!"

The former voice actress bit her lip as she kept glancing outside and back, before sheathing her sword. "Okay; I'm making an executive decision, here...and Tom, don't try and stop me. Miss Boop, right? Whatever magic you're thinking of doing, better do it now!"

"You got it!" said the toonette with a salute as she raised her pen and made sure to fill it with the over-sized inkwell from her bag.

Then, with everyone else practically praying behind her (and the others nervously watching from the other side), she quickly etched a simple door onto the projector-screen wall.

"Let's hope this works," she then murmured and reached down to the knob. As expected, she managed to grab it...

But it wasn't moving. She pushed, pulled, and turned every which way, but the door just wouldn't budge. "Gnrr, it's stuck!" Betty whined helplessly. "It's a door, but it ain't goin' nowhere!"

"Dammit!" Allison sighed. "Now what? We're going to be monster food!"

Beside her, Tom would've growled if he could, throwing his hands up in frustration as he turned back to the door and prepared to brandish his ax—and anything else he could use as a weapon—against whatever kind of monster the Demon had made himself out of sight of the others.

Suddenly, Henry, who'd been watching the whole thing with a mix of every emotion between frustration and wonder that you could think of, stood up. "I have a crazy idea. That door's not working because there's no other side to it; it's as good as a drawing. There has to be a door on _this_ side, too. Allison, do you have your ink brush on you?"

"Pretty much always," she nodded quickly and took it from her belt to throw to him. "Hurry up, he's coming!"

As fast as he could manage, the old animator quickly dipped the brush in whatever ink puddle he could find nearby, and started carefully tracing the door on the screen. _I really never thought I'd be doing this again...I must be crazy, but dammit, I really, REALLY want this to work...!_

"Henry, he's charging this way!"

The earth started _shaking_ at their feet when another _slam_ rang out, this time much closer. They could practically hear the Ink Demon breathing, and a monstrous hand was seen clawing around for anything that it could grab.

"He's about to find the shack...!"

Trying to steel his well-trained nerves, Henry finally finished the copy of the door with one final brush-stroke of the knob. When he looked over his work, he felt tempted to try opening it himself...but he dared not smudge the ink, as careful now as he remembered having to be with his cels in the old days. This was indeed a job for a toon. "Okay...Betty, try it now!"

"Roger!" she replied, and with a gulp, clasped the knob...

And was surprised when it gave with a turn and a _click_ of an invisible latch.

"It's openin'!" Betty gasped and started to pull. "Guys, it's openin', c'mon!"

Cheers rang out from the toons which mingled with the harried commands of Allison and Henry...only for them all to coalesce into screams as the Ink Demon, now having transformed into a monstrous, hellish black beast with a grimacing maw of sharp teeth, came slamming against the open entrance.

"No time to waste, _move it!_" Allison roared as they all pushed through the door, barely noticing the bright glow it took as they crossed over the open portal to another world. The Ink Demon kept pushing its eyeless head through, barely fitting that and one hand through to grasp whatever it could.

Tom had roughly pushed Henry out of the way to go in first...then, as an afterthought, reached back and pulled the human in behind him by the shirt. Their last companion fended the monster's outstretched fingers away with a swipe of her sword before she turned and jumped through herself, leaving the real world behind them for one that was blinding and brilliant, their very senses leaving them awash for the briefest of seconds.

When both groups could see again, they were all practically on their knees, their eyes having turned back to the screen to see the room from where they'd just come. Courtesy of Allison, the door had closed behind them quickly, and again looked like naught but a simple imprint of ink.

They watched with stifled breaths as the Ink Demon seemed to stare at the sight before it, a hand hovering in mid-air. They heard it let out a slow, seething growl, lips curling around its teeth, before the hand dropped hard onto the ground in frustration and he turned to slink back out, disappearing as if exiting stage-right out of the shack.

"...Good heavens," Betty said as everyone let out their collective sighs of, if not relief, respite. "What on Earth was _that?_"

"The Ink Demon's other form," Allison breathed out as she got up to her feet. "He's almost always in his first one...but I've only ever seen him do that once before, after he caught a glimpse of one of the cartoons playing randomly in places. He seemed...distraught...and transformed to wreck the place. Well," she shook her head and waved dismissively. "I _would_ say distraught, if I didn't think he didn't _have_ emotions in the first place."

"He does," Alice immediately stated, but then wrung her fingers together, uncertain. "...He must..."

"Alice," Boris interrupted her with a gentle hand on her shoulder as he helped her up as well. "We can think on that later. But lookit th' bright side...look around," he said with a breathless, undeniably-giddy laugh that was bubbling from his chest, "It worked."

That was when the toons, ink creatures, and human all really regarded each other. There they stood in the same space, on the same side of the reels, and even still it was hard to believe.

"...It did work..." Allison said with a smile of her own forming, trading equally-wide-eyed looks with Tom. "It really did..."

"Oh golly..." Alice couldn't help but chirp quietly.

Betty, meanwhile, was full-on laughing and clapping once the situation hit. "Oh, I _knew_ it would work, I just _knew_ it! Y'see? That's what a _true_ Creator can do with ink."

Eyes all turned to Henry now, who at first wasn't noticing that he was getting the most attention, as a human having successfully crossed into Toon World. He was standing and looking up, all around, taking everything in. Everything that he could see and feel. Sure, it was still Joey Drew Studios, or at least one just like it...but already he felt quite a bit younger here...he could almost remember the elation he felt when he first started as an animator, the excitement and anticipation of what they could and would accomplish...of what _he_ could accomplish.

"...Well...I'll be..." he murmured, before his eyes set back onto the others; Allison and Tom, who already looked more hopeful themselves...and then the toons, who were in equal states of frozen anticipation, at a loss for exactly what to say, exactly like children to a much-unknown parent.

With a smile and a wink toward the man, Betty ushered the other two forward to him with a light push to their backs. They glanced at her, then at each other, and then back at Henry, who started up to them himself in a state of awe...there, as real as anything in the world, only so much so on a piece of paper back home, were his own creations; he was berating himself for even _forgetting_ that they were _his, _and not Joey's.

"...Boris..." he spoke to the wolf first, reaching up to him, and he felt almost weak in the knees from his emotional wreckage in the other world. "...Is that really you, buddy?"

The wolf's jaw gave a little quiver as he nodded...he _did_ remember that he'd taken in one of his clones before...how must it be feeling for him to meet the real thing?

"Yeah...yeah, it's me...th' one an' only," he said with a sniff as he took Henry's hand to shake it. "Good t' finally...OOF!"

Boris didn't get to finish his sentence, as he suddenly found himself drawn into a tight hug from the man. With only a moment of surprise, his arms were also thrown around him, tightly, and the toon could feel waves of familiarity, a connection, washing over him, so forceful that he could cry; and so he did. He was almost sure Henry was, too...but it didn't matter. They had him, and he was _safe_, and so were _they_.

Alice watched the emotional reunion for a second with welling tears of her own, hesitant to say anything, even a mere greeting of her own to the Creator...but nothing needed to be said. Boris broke from the hug to invite her into it, too, and Henry gladly took them both in, like would have his own children...and the angel not only cried, but laughed; they all did.

"Awww..." Betty sniffed and blew her nose into another handkerchief as she started welling up, just by watching. "Ain't that th' most beautiful thing ya ever saw?"

"Well, it's certainly a happier ending than I thought for all of us," Allison had to chuckle, facing the toonette with her lip quirked up. "So, I'm guessing we have you to thank for _getting_ them here, Miss Boop."

"Aw, shucks..." she waved her hand dismissively. "They were here already, I jus' saved 'em from their traps. I'm sure you'll hear th' full story from 'em soon. An' by th' way, call me Betty, alla my friends should!"

At that, Tom's eyes widened a little, as if he recognized her name right then. Allison, missing his reaction, nodded with a smile back. "Well, glad to meet you then, Betty. Now...I guess the question is, what do we do now that we're here?"

"M' sure a breather would be nice for everyone," Betty shrugged as she turned back to Henry and the other toons, who were now simply talking. "Some time ta think. We got th' Creator here...an' we still have a door for th' Lost Ones. Now, how t' help out lil' Bendy, wherever he is."

Meanwhile, as they came out of their hug, Henry simply looked at his two living creations with a shake of his head, breathing out a sigh of disbelief. "Well, I guess coming to the studio was worth all of the horror I had to go through, after all."

"I'm still sorry about that," Alice bit her lip and looked at him with sadness in her pie-cut eyes, "I couldn't control Susie, when I was in her head...I could only watch."

"There's nothing to be sorry about, if that's the case," Henry's head shook. "I'm just glad you're out of it...however you got _into_ it."

"Y'can thank Miss Betty Boop fer that," Boris said with a large grin. "But uh, now I'm right curious...why _didja_ come back to th' studio?"

He sighed and ran the fingers of one hand through his unkempt hair. "Joey sent me a letter, inviting me back. Said he wanted to show me something. Well, I saw a _lot_, alright. Enough to make me question _so_ much about what went on after I quit...but now," he looked them in the eyes again, "How in the world did _you_ two get in here? This _also_ looks like the old workshop, even though I know we're on the toon side," he had to grin when he said that; they figured he was fighting back the urge to laugh like a kid in a candy store.

Boris grimaced, and Alice placed her hand warmly on his arm as he spoke. "It's...a long n' sad story, really."

"Well, like I said...I wanna hear it. Especially if it concerns you guys." He then looked around again, his gaze lingering a little on the others watching them before turning back to Boris and Alice, one hand on each of their shoulders. "...And I notice there's only the two of you. Shouldn't Bendy be around?"

Again, the question they were dreading. Henry noticed their crestfallen, worried looks and got a frown, himself. "I'm guessing he has something to do with the Ink Demon, like Alice did with Susie."

"Well...that's what we're thinkin'...but we honestly don't know," Boris practically whimpered. "He's missin' either way, lost in this cruel place, an'..._that's_ why we might need yer help."

Henry nodded slowly, pressing his lips together thoughtfully. "Alright," he hummed, "I _definitely_ wanna hear everything about this, then."

Camilla stepped into the conversation once she had taken another look out of the shack. "I think the town's safe...everyone's coming out. I think the Ink Demon might've finally calmed down."

"Which could be more dangerous," Allison pointed out with crossed arms, "Means he's calm enough to plan his next move."

The Lost One nodded. "Gives _us_ time to plan, too, so there's that...anyway, there's benches all around the central area, if you want to go out and have some room to talk. I want to go through that door, if I can, and find some survivors to bring back."

"Oh, good luck, Camilla," Betty smiled with a little wave. "Th' door should work fer goin' back too. Jus' be careful."

"Camilla?" Henry then stepped up to her with a quirked eyebrow. "I _knew_ you sounded familiar. Camilla Jones, right? Weren't you going to be an animator?"

She gave a little gasp (having not remembered her last name for ages), and nodded. "Y-yeah...but I was later stuck as a desk clerk for Administration. Honestly, I got used to it...it was a job, and I needed one...even if I couldn't do what I dreamed."

"You had some talent, though," Henry's arms crossed. "Why wouldn't you even be considered?"

She shrugged. "Maybe Mister Drew didn't like the thought of a woman on the animating team. I'm happy to know at least _you'd_ have had me there, Mister Stein."

"Call me Henry," he smiled, and then huffed. "Yeah...sounds like him. He was a real selfish ass. And now that I've seen some things...maybe much worse than that."

"Well...that was then, and...now I'm actually _in_ the cartoon, sorta," she chuckled softly. "Crawling out of Hell and building our Heaven. Anyway...go relax and make yourselves comfortable; and don't worry, the Lost Ones don't mind any of you, anymore, or shouldn't. I'll have someone bring you out some soup."

"Ooh, suppertime," Boris said with his fingers wiggling in anticipation, which caused the others to either chuckle or roll their eyes.

"Don't worry," Betty whispered an aside to the human and ink-humans. "I also got tea an' sandwiches on me fer those a' you who're tired a' bacon soup."

* * *

The entirety of the village seemed tense and quiet as the group walked out and settled down; most of the ink beings were still being cautious, staying in their ramshackle houses and peeking out through the doors and windows, casting moving shadows in places.

The rescued people tried to pay no mind to them; they were far too busy looking around at the newer, larger town that seemed more lovingly put together and decorated, which somewhat matched the hopeful atmosphere of the toon world. Dismal as the sight was, it still made for a fair introduction to what was different about the studio.

Once they were sitting together on a bench, Henry with his toons and Betty in front of them in a fold-out chair she'd brought in her impossible bag (Allison and Tom were still standing, mostly just looking around them and also wanting to keep guard against any more surprises, though they too were listening closely), Henry gave the toons a little more clarification on why he was there and what he'd seen in his journey down into the depths of the dreary, abandoned studio. And when he was done, with them confirming things that they too knew, they began their tale from the beginning to that moment, with Betty speaking up once her part came. All throughout, Henry's stoic and thoughtful facial expressions were changing, to something ranging the gamut from sad to horrified to angry and back through again.

Once they were finished, there was a strong silence in the air, where Henry briefly rubbed his face with both hands, his frustration coming out in a somewhat growling hum...they guessed that he was probably trying not to swear, or cry, with the way a shudder crawled down his back. And then he spoke, low and direct.

"...When I see Joey again, I'm going to punch him."

The toons immediately voiced their agreements (along with a few passerby Lost Ones who overheard), and Boris turned to Betty with a little smile. "See? Toldja I thought he had dibs."

"Aright, aright, fair enough," she giggled and waved him off. "You kids an' yer Creator can get 'im, jus' throw in a good _slap_ fer me."

"It's still amazingly kind of you to help them when you stopped by, Miss Boop," Henry had to smile. "You could've just turned around and walked out." He wrapped an arm around each of his toons, Boris to his right and Alice to his left. "I can't thank you enough."

"Aw shucks...it's like I told 'em, I'm _glad_ ta help, Mister Henry. S'what I was there ta do, find 'em and get 'em outta th' Land of the Forgotten, an' back home. Sure, it's terribly scary, what happened...but I'm seein' it through to th' end. We got one more t' find, an' then ya can leave this place fer good."

Henry sighed. "Well, at least it's good to know that _you_ guys can leave...I've...been having such bad luck, that I don't know if I'm _meant_ to. Though...I've been having this weird feeling of deja-vu all throughout. I..." he held his forehead and rubbed it, "I may have actually been in there for longer than I thought."

"Well, yer in th' toon world now," Betty shrugged, though kept her mirthful smile. "So that oughta be better than back there. An' who knows...you may jus' find yer way into th' real world from somewhere _here, _an' you'll never see that place again."

He laughed. "I dunno...I may never _want_ to leave. This is like being able to walk in the world I just came up with in my head one day...and now I might be able to walk in _multiple_ worlds that were created for the silver screen. What animator would wanna get outta _this?_"

"None, in my experience," she winked. "But, s'up ta you. I do at least hope ya plan t' help yer toons out, now that yer here."

"I don't see how I possibly _couldn't_," he immediately said with a nod of finality. "We'll find Bendy. We'll get him out...somehow, if you really think he _is_ just trapped down in the machine."

"S' our best guess," Boris nodded as he gulped down another can of soup. "I _really_ don't wanna see th' thing again, but...I made a promise when I was revitalized. We _ain't_ leavin' him."

"Absolutely not," Alice agreed. "It's not the same without Bendy. Now...it's just a matter of getting back up to the Ink Machine controls and shutting it down, then coming back...all while avoiding the Ink Demon. I hope Camilla can convince the rest of the Lost Ones to cross over first."

"Doesn't help that we don't have Sammy," said Allison as she paced nearby. "It's disconcerting _enough_ that he's been brought back."

"He _is_ changed, Allison," the angel toonette insisted. "I promise."

"Or was," Betty sighed and shook her head. "Th' poor man...taken out by th' Ink Demon..."

"Again," Boris whined a little.

"...Now I'm a little disappointed. Really? _None_ of you believed me?"

Everyone in the vicinity whipped their heads over to the sudden, familiar new voice that entered the conversation with a humorous edge. There, leaning rather nonchalantly on the large statue of Bendy with his arms crossed and mask replaced, was none other than Sammy Lawrence, a splash of ink just behind his feet to show exactly from where he'd popped up.

Allison and Tom were already on alert, brandishing a sword and an ax respectively, while Henry was on his feet with a defensive glare.

The toons, however, were completely opposite in their attitudes.

"Oh, there he is!"

"Mister Sammy!"

"SAMMY, YER OKAY!"

That last comment was courtesy of Boris, who'd leaped from his seat to tackle the old music director in a hug.

"Nononono I don't do hugs...! AGH!" _Thump!_

The toonettes immediately burst into laughter upon seeing their friend having dropped him to the ground, while the humans and once-humans slowly lowered their weapons, glancing at one another in confusion.

"...Well," Allison hummed as she placed her sword back, "Uh...looks like they were right." Henry, in response, just let out a little snicker.

Sammy, his mask a little askew, nudged Boris off of him after giving a pat on his back. "Alright, c'mon, enough...geez, you toons are affectionate." He stood back up, with the wolf shyly poking out his tongue in apology, as he faced the others. "What exactly went on in my absence?"

Then, he caught the narrowed eyes of the others.

"...Ah."

"Yeah...not all of us are as excited as the toons are to see you," Henry was the one to say, with his arms crossed as Boris sat down again with Alice. "But, they told me everything...and I'm inclined to believe them."

"I'm _not_ so easily swayed," Allison huffed, with Tom punching the palm of his mechanical hand in warning. "Are you _really_ changed?"

"Well, I'm still partial to the mask...but you don't see the Ink Demon anywhere with me, do you?" Sammy quipped back. "Trust me, _you'll_ be feeling the effects of this place soon enough, too, Allison."

At hearing her old name again, she was staring, frozen, for two seconds before coming out of it quickly with a shake of her head. "...I trust my own gut. The toons are the only reason I'm holding back from running you through."

He simply chuckled. "They _are_ remarkable kids, aren't they? You should be proud, Stein."

Henry gave a little grin. "More than you know."

"...And look," he hung his head a little, "You know I was never much for apologies, even when I was human..."

The animator held up his hand to stop him. "Don't. I kinda figured that you weren't in your right mind...especially after I've heard everything. So, I can give ya one more pass." He held an index finger up. "_One._ We'll see what happens after we take care of everything else."

"Aw, I _knew_ Henry was gonna be reasonable an' kind," Boris said with a bright grin, which was matched on the others.

"_We_ however," Allison pointed to herself and Tom, "Are keeping an eye on you, so no funny business."

"Considering I just overheard you were ready to ask _me_ for help," he said, and they could hear the smirk that he couldn't show, "I'd be holding back the funny business just for curiosity's sake, anyway."

"...Oh yeah," she muttered through clenched teeth, having forgotten.

"So, then," Sammy continued, turning to the toons, "I'm guessing that your plan to get a door up to the other side was a success."

"It was!" Alice said with a little clap, before deflating slightly. "But...we ran into some trouble, which is why we were surprised to see you in one piece."

"Th' Ink Demon," Boris said with an angry grimace. "We thought he gotcha."

Sammy jerked up in surprise. "You're kidding. Augh," his head shook, "Slippery beast. No, he didn't get me again, as I've said...but I was having a hard time finding _him_. I've been leaving offerings in summoning circles all over the place, traveling the void, listening...and then I sensed that he'd transformed...and disappeared. I couldn't get a read on him from this side, nor could my Searchers."

"That's because he ended up back on the _other_ side," Allison said with a jerk of her thumb, "...Nearly had us cornered when the door opened."

"They gave 'im th' slip, though," Betty said with a swing of her fist, "That monster can't compete with a team a' toons and creators."

"If he can turn _into_ that monster," Henry hummed through his fingers as he laid his chin in his palm, disturbed, "Then I don't really know what to make of him."

"Time to be prepared for anything, then...the Demon, too, can summon Searchers," said Sammy as he reached back into the puddle of ink, moving his arm around like he was looking in a random cartoon hole, before snatching up the handle of a Gent pipe. He turned it around and offered it to Henry. "I believe you've used one of these."

"I tend to prefer the ax," said the man as he gratefully took the tool; even in the toon world of the studio, where the Ink Demon and the Searchers can apparently roam, he still felt a bit helpless without some kind of weapon. "But, this definitely does the job."

"Good; now then, to the business at hand. Allison," he turned to her with his arms crossed, "What exactly did you need my help for?"

The woman sighed, trying to get past her annoyance at his smug replies...and at the mounting ache in her head. "The toons, in return for letting us through the door, asked us to get the remaining Lost Ones through as well. But, you know how they treat angels," she tapped her halo-headband, "So I was hoping that if you _could_ help, they'd listen to _you._ That Camilla girl might have a head start on you now, though."

His head shook. "Not much of one...some are stubborn, and others are too caught up in their own misery to listen to anyone else, and still others are stuck in cages and behind walls and halls of glass. But...I _could_ get them out. I guess if I cannot keep up with the Ink Demon, I can do _that_ much."

"How very kind of you," Allison huffed.

"Oh now, quit yer bickerin'," Betty said as she stood up and put her fists on her hips, "We all got the same goals now, don't we? Gettin' outta here in one piece? We oughta put aside th' past an' work together. Surely you're startin' ta remember how it was in th' studio before?"

That's when Allison started to rub at her head. "Not really, but...some things _are_ starting to come into focus. What about you, Tom?"

The angry-looking wolf hung his head, pondering the question; then he glanced back to the former voice actress with a slow nod.

"Look, Betty's right," Henry stepped in. "We can all fight out our differences later, if we have to. But we now have a way to save everyone who's trapped that we can. It's probably not going to reverse their appearances, but...living _here_ has to be better than leaving them in that Hell."

"It sure is," the toonette nodded. "An' once we got 'em, we can get Bendy, last but not least."

Allison traded glances between Tom, Sammy, and Henry, and rolled her eyes upward, wondering how she ever gets into such things...in fact, her mind was fighting to remember how she got into it in the _first_ place. "Alright...we should hurry and get down to business, before the Demon tries to corner us again. What should we all do?"

"Well, we don't have to worry about the village," said another voice, and everyone turned to see Camilla walking in from the shack, ushering in about five more Lost Ones. All were hunched over and shaking, two were holding their upper arms tightly, and all looking eternally hopeless. "The door works," she said with a smile in her voice, "I managed to find all the survivors that I could from the Demon's rage. There should just be a few hiding in the rest of the studio there now...oh!" she owlishly blinked, "Sammy! You're back!"

"Will this doubt of me ever cease?" he shook his head in mock despair.

"How 'bout when _you_ cease with the theatrics for a second?" Allison grunted.

"I shall _never_, dear lady."

"Anyway," Camilla interrupted with a cough as she noticed the newcomers looking around nervously, casting suspicious looks especially towards Allison and Alice, and finally resting their eyes between their once-prophet and the one who saved them. "You guys are free...go look around, find a house...or build one, whatever you want. You'll feel better soon."

They looked between her and Sammy, and the masked ink-man decided to add to the speech. "If you can trust me, my little sheep, you can trust her. Go on."

And they did, albeit slowly, shuffling along in a little group toward some of the others waiting at the water's edge, who were already fishing a few more of their own out of the void.

"Ain't done with th' 'sheep songs', eh?" Betty asked him with a giggle and a wink.

The music director sighed. "They're used to the act...I'm only making them feel at ease. Not because I'm still finding it hard to come out of the habit."

"I knew there was a sweet side to you somewhere," Alice observed, which caused a bout of quiet snickering among the boys and Allison. She ignored the would-be glare from him by rolling her eyes up to the side with a knowing grin.

"Now then," said the angel-woman as she cleared her throat and straightened the forming smirk, "Guess we just gotta look for the stragglers."

"As I've stipulated, I can do that," Sammy hummed. "But since you and your pet over there are keen on keeping an eye on me, you'll have to come along. Somebody has to make sure that the door and the projector stay functional."

"What about us?" Boris inquired. "I know I ain't about t' go _back_ t' that side again."

"Me neither," Alice shuddered.

"And I make three," Henry frowned.

Camilla then hummed. "Well...you and the toons can go back through _this_ studio, Henry, and find the Ink Machine controls...and whatever else you think would help. I can watch the projector on this side...plus anyone who wants to volunteer to watch the ink river."

"Sounds like a plan t'me," Boris smiled.

"But," Alice spoke up with a hand raised, "How will we know it's time to turn off the controls, if we're doing that while you guys are still rescuing the others?"

"There should only be a few left," Allison reassured. "We'll signal you somehow."

"_I'll_ signal you. I'm the only one who can travel just as well as the Ink Demon, sans crossing the other side," Sammy pointed out. "You just get to that machine and do what you have to. And _we'll_ be ready down here with the cavalry, as Boris put it, since I'm certain the monster will try to stop us...speaking of the toons, I assume you have weapons?"

At that, Betty immediately pulled out her frying pan. "Right here."

Boris reached behind him for his own, only to grimace at feeling nothing. "Uh, Betty, y'still got my ax in yer bag."

"Oh, sorry," she giggled and pulled it out by the handle. "There y'go."

"Much better," the wolf grinned as he gripped it tightly.

"I don't need a weapon," Alice smiled. "I can ward off Searchers, at least."

"Still, it's better we all stick together," Henry ordered, looking each of the toons square in the eyes. "There's no way in Hell I'm letting you out of my sight."

"Aw, gee, Henry, we'll be fine," the wolf shyly chuckled. "We've been fine so far."

"...Then I guess we've got ourselves a plan," Allison said as she took her sword from its protective sheath with a metallic _shing_. "Good luck."

"Same to you," Henry nodded. "Don't any of you get caught. We've got some catching up to do later," he said with a little smirk.

"I'd count on it," she gave a laugh, and even Tom couldn't help but grin himself, albeit with a "what did I get myself into" roll of his pie-cut eyes. "But, if one or any of us _don't_ get out of this alive...I'm sorry about having to imprison you, Henry. We didn't have much of a choice at the time."

"I understand," he nodded with a little smile. "If our roles were reversed, I'd have probably done the same, before Tom would have killed me and escaped."

The sentiment made both ink beings snicker, and Tom even gave him a confirming nod with his arms crossed.

"Bring the flock back together safe, Sammy," said Alice with a little wave.

The ink man huffed quietly, but there was a gentle smile that they heard in his voice. "I'll do what I can."

"Good luck to _all_ of you," Camilla said with her hands clasped together, praying for it in her mind as she watched the groups divide up into their respective destinations.

* * *

Although it was pointed out to Henry that there was a safe way back up into the studio proper, there was always the lingering thought from the Ink Demon's various unpredictable attacks that nowhere was quite safe anymore. And so, in lieu of taking the lift back up into the intersecting rope-ways and carts that the Lost Ones had constructed, he had instead insisted on going through the offices.

"If the Ink Machine I saw making ink isn't the real one, then I oughta see where it is, myself," he'd reasoned as they went on, finding the secret door in the village that could surprisingly be opened by one of the many keys on Wally's old ring, which Boris still had. "Who knows...maybe there'll be a way in that nobody saw."

Boris's hum sounded like a whine as he led the way. "I doubt it...it looked purdy locked up from when I was in there. An' t' be honest...I ain't keen on takin' a second look."

"We'll just peer through the door, Boris," Alice assured while taking his arm, "Just one look...then we'll head _straight_ for the elevator, and back up."

"I'll give _anything_ to go _up_ at this point," Henry muttered.

"Take it from an angel," the young toonette smiled back to him, "No matter what happens, you're heading up, Henry."

He had to chuckle and shake his head. "I created a _devil _too, you know. But, we'll see, I suppose."

"Oh, I'm _sure_ y'are, hon," Betty then piped up from next to him. "Yer the one who'll make all th' difference here. Now, I gotta be th' worrywart, it's just my thing...y' get enough t' eat? I still got sammiches, an' a can a' bacon soup here somewhere. S'not bad stuff when yer used to it."

"No...I'm good." Henry gave her a quirked eyebrow. "If I may ask, Betty, I thought you were Jewish, at least by proxy of the Fleischers?"

"Eh," she hand-waved, then whispered in a conspiratorial fashion, "Between you an' me, I don't think that's _real _bacon in th' soup."

"Considering the company, I'm _really_ not surprised," he laughed.

It was a bit of a walk through an empty corridor, their eyes wandering all over and ears peeled for anything resembling a hint of danger. There was still ink dripping from somewhere far away, and a few puddles in corners...but other than that, Henry was slightly surprised to find that things in this version of the studio were...well, for lack of a better word, _cleaner_. It still had a decrepit and abandoned feel...but there was also something newer about it too. He decided that it was probably something having to do with being in the world of toons.

Finally, they made it to a staircase with signs that pointed down towards the lowest point of the studio proper: Administration. Carefully, shoes creaking on the old wood, they opened the door and entered another staircase, this time diverging from another floor up that was directed towards the archives and R&D.

"Elevator's back up in there," Boris nodded. "Good t' know my sense a' direction's still good." He stood in front of the door that would give them entry into the offices, but for some reason he couldn't move to open it. Alice looked down to notice that his hands were shaking.

"It's just one look, Boris," the angel patted his arm to calm him down. "We're all right here with you."

"Yeah," Henry added as he placed a hand on his shoulder, "We won't let anything happen, buddy."

The wolf smiled weakly at all the reassurance, and with a deep breath, opened the door. _Do it fer Bendy._

The waiting room for the offices was quite a bit bigger than what Henry was expecting as they entered and looked around, taking in all the posters for the workers and for advertising the most popular of the cartoon episodes, amid the clean and organized look of the benches, chairs, and reception desk.

"There," Boris pointed to another door, above which sat the logo for the apparent contracted engineers of the studio and the Ink Machine, the Gent company. "Th' entrance to th' real Ink Machine's in there, just beyond th' secret film vaults."

Henry's eyes narrowed; though he was pretty sure he hadn't seen this area before, he was starting to feel that sense again, that he _did._ It was starting to nag at him, and pretty badly. "Makes sense," he muttered as he started toward the door and peered into the glass. It definitely looked like a room that only an engineer could have built, with ink pipes, gauges, and valves that looked to carefully direct and manipulate the flow of ink throughout the building. He tried the door and wasn't surprised to find that it was locked...but again, it was another easily opened by trying the keys until one fit.

"Goodness; that janitor a' yours sure got around," Betty giggled as the door swung open.

"Yeh, Mister Franks was a real spry guy," Boris chuckled back. "Hope he got outta here b'fore everythin' went t'...well, you know."

The vault was easily located, a door that sat to the left of the pipe controls and labeled clearly as such. However, upon looking into the glass window, Henry and the toons visibly deflated; the room was _completely_ flooded inside with ink. There was no way in; and the pumps all seemed to be working overtime to keep it from _over-_flowing through the door.

"Well, I'll be a sheep's uncle," the wolf muttered and scratched his head, "Camilla was right. It _is_ flooded, all th' way through th' vaults."

Henry grimaced. "And I don't know just how extensive the system is, really...it could take ages to find the right pumps for this. There's only one thing to do: we gotta turn the Machine off."

"I second that," Alice hummed. "And we'd better get up there, before..."

_Splooshsplooshsplooshsplooshsploosh._

"...We _really_ have to keep our mouths shut when we discover something."

"...Oh no," Betty gasped. "Did you guys hear that?"

Henry groaned. "Oh yeah. Better take out our weapons and stay close to each other. We're gonna have a fight on our hands."

Each doing as they were told, the small group whirled around to the entrance, brandishing their various tools...only to see not only an army of Searchers piling up into the room and turning their attention to them...

But their blood ran cold when the room darkened with clouds of inky shadow wrapping every corner and nook.

Henry's heart immediately pounded in his chest, keeping in time with the eerie and familiar sound. "Oh you've _got_ to be kidding me..."

"Th' Demon's in th' stairwell!" Boris exclaimed, his knees shaking as he held his head in urgency. "We can't go there no more!"

As the Searchers started surging forward, Alice stepped in front of the others, her halo glowing brightly as she put her hands up. "Back! Get back!"

The ones in the immediate front fell away to her light, as expected...but even more were popping up and swiping at the group, determined now to drag them down with them. One even managed to get past the girl's luminous barrier to nab her legs, only to be cut down quickly with an ax swing from Boris.

"I don't think we can easily get outta this one!" Betty practically stammered as she swung her pan to knock one away. "We hafta run!"

The room was filled with splashes and groaning as the ink beasts were fought off and a path cut through. "_Where,_ though?!" Henry grunted with every beast he dropped back with the pipe. And the more they did, the closer the Ink Demon seemed to come to the room...

Alice's head swung around as she tried to stay within the group's circle, catching sight of the sign above the large corridor in the back. "The offices! We can run to one and I can ward it!"

_"Then move!"_ Henry roared as two, three, four Searchers came grabbing at once, to be cut down or knocked away, the lot of them coming in waves enough to blacken the floor and prevent any escape outside.

It was now just a blind decision to turn and run, a small group of toons and one human, all the way into the quiet maze of offices and storage closets. More Searchers popped up in their path, but they were cut away as the urgent groaning sounds still covered the way behind them, along with the constant thrumming of the Ink Demon's aura, so palpable his malice that it could be _felt_ in their very blood.

They ran, barely paying attention to anything else...no sounds but their own pulses and footfalls in their ears.

Finally, they reached the end of the maze, where stood the largest office of all, easily distinguished by the owner's ever-present logo above the door.

"Mister Drew's office!" Boris exclaimed.

_God, I never thought I'd see this place again._ "Inside, quick!" Henry said as he kept up with his toons, scrambling to the entryway. Boris fiddled with the key as Alice hastily drew her symbol on the front, and Henry practically grit his teeth so hard that he feared they would crack. The Demon's aura was rushing ever closer, and the Searchers were popping up again at their feet...

"We're in!" the wolf huffed. "Let's go!"

In they tumbled, _just_ out of reach of several ink beasts, and the room was cast into darkness as the door swung tightly shut against the intrusions with a loud _SLAM._

For what seemed like a long time, the toons huddled together with Henry against the door, each one breathing hard from worry and running, as they heard the Searchers popping in and out of their puddles in pursuit outside...only to come up short. The Demon's thrumming pulse was _there_ now, just out of sight, tendrils casting through anything that it could. Henry swore that he could even hear its raspy breathing.

And then...it vanished.

Silence stretched on as the group waited. Then, the man stood slowly to give a cautious peek out of the window.

"I-i-is he gone?" Boris stammered, his eyes blinking in the dark as he held on tightly to a quivering Alice.

"...Yeah...but we still have company..."

There were still Searchers standing sentry at the corners of the hall...but now they were just the large ones, which he remembered never really attacked...some seemed to carry little mementos of when they were human, like hats. A normal Searcher popped up...only for Henry to see a Swollen One _pound_ it back into the ground, out of sight.

"Uh...this is gonna sound crazy," Henry's eyebrow quirked up as he whispered, "But, I think some of the Searchers are actually on our side."

Curiously, the toons stood up to look, and Alice hid a quiet giggle. "I recognize that one, in the hard hat! I think by trying to ward them off, I called up my own little army."

Henry cast a wide-eyed glance between the toons, and Boris shrugged with a shy grin. "Toldja she could do that."

The human laughed. "Alice, you're a wonder."

"At least _someone_ thinks so," she said with a prim and proper flick of her fingers through her hair.

With that, they stood up fully, and Henry decided to flip the light switch to get a better look at the place in which they hid...the office of Joey Drew, the leader of his own personal kingdom of Hell.

"God, I remember when Joey had a little room back near the animation department for his office," Henry sighed, running a hand through his hair. "_Now_ look...living like a butter-and-egg kinda guy..."

He was so distracted for that moment, that he didn't notice the toons suddenly looking around with a rising, frantic panic.

"...Betty? Hey, where are ya? Betty...? Oh no...oh _no...Betty!_"

"Oh God, please, no...!"

"What is it?" Henry turned back to them, only to _now _notice that he could only count two toons in the room...his own.

They'd all run so quickly, so determinedly, that they didn't stop to think if they'd heard anyone screaming, and they'd been so scared that they hadn't noticed they were missing a voice.

The Searchers had taken Betty Boop.


End file.
